


Cunning and Ambition - Book Four

by MinaAndChao



Series: Cunning and Ambition [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, M/M, Slash, Slytherin!Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-02-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 83,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MinaAndChao/pseuds/MinaAndChao
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter's Fourth Year is upon him. A time of change is in the air and darkness is creeping back into the world. A Slytherin!Harry AU.</p><p>(This book is completed, but Book 6 was abandoned)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Boy Trouble

Harry shot up in bed, groaning at the pain in his temples.  It felt like he was in a vice and he could barely think. Slowly, he put on his glasses and pulled over a notebook to write down the contents of his dream.  He rubbed his temples and looked out the window, where he could see the pink and orange hues of sunrise and smiled to himself.  Today was the day the Malfoys came and picked him up so he could stay with them.  They were going to be going to the Quidditch World Cup final tournament - Draco had excitedly written about it in his letters, and Harry couldn’t be more thrilled.  He had never seen a professional Quidditch match before.

Then again, Harry had a lot left to see.

While he listened to his uncle and cousin snore in their beds, Harry fed Hedwig, who hooted happily and fluttered her wings.  He made sure all of his things were packed up and his bed was made before leaving his room.  That had been the newest development this year.  He hadn’t been locked in his room, and instead enjoyed the freedom, whatever little it was, that came from being able to stretch his legs about the house if he couldn’t sleep.  Going to the bathroom, he relieved himself before brushing his teeth and combing his unruly hair.  He would need to get it cut at some point before school.  Prodding at it lightly with his fingers, he exited the bathroom as he heard the radio alarm in his aunt and uncle’s room go off.

Harry made his way down the stairs and quietly set the table as he listened to the sound of the shower turn on.  He put on the kettle and the coffee before putting on the pan for a fry up, sliced some tomatoes and put them on his aunt and uncle’s plates before putting on the ham, beans, eggs and toast.  Workday mornings were always early.  

“I see you’ve gotten started.”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.”  

Petunia nodded her head, but looked displeased.  Harry used to think she was displeased at his cooking, until he discovered she was usually, if not always displeased with his existence.  She poured herself a mug of tea before sitting at the table and opening her magazine.  “Fetch the paper, will you?”

Turning the food onto a lower setting, Harry pulled on his shoes and left the house.  He gathered the _Times_ from the end of the park and on his way towards the porch heard a hoot and caught the _Daily Prophet_ from a delivery owl.  Making his way inside, he closed the door and left the _Prophet_ off to the side of the sink while he cooked, eying it.  His uncle had grumbled the first morning it was delivered but a nervous tutting from Petunia kept him from saying anything more.  He left the _Times_ by Vernon’s plate.

“I’ll be down in a minute, boy.  My coffee best be at my seat!”

Making up two plates of food - everything for his uncle and eggs, ham and toast for his aunt.  Harry set the two plates on the table before placing a large, oven safe plate of things in the oven to keep warm for Dudley.  He poured hot coffee with lots of milk and sugar for his uncle before setting it down on the table by the _Times_.  Instead of sitting at the table, Harry buttered two pieces of toast and set a slice of ham and tomato on the toast before taking a bite.  Ignoring the sputtering noise of his aunt as he pulled the twine off the _Prophet_ and spread it on the smooth tile top beside the sink.

He had long since learned to stop asking and expecting things from the Dursleys and instead took.  Harry chewed as he listened to Vernon settle into his chair and turned the page of his news paper as he read an article on a series of raids the Ministry of Magic was doing.  His expression dropped at the fact a series of Dark objects had been found near Muggle homes or in possession of Muggles.  That was serious and dangerous.  Thankfully, a series of people had been arrested and were under investigation.  The list got scanned for the names for anyone familiar. There was none that he could see.

“Quit reading that rubbish and get me some more breakfast.”

Suppressing the very strong urge to roll his eyes and sneer, Harry took a bite of his sandwich and abandoned his post by the sink and took Vernon’s plate.  He filled it with seconds and handed it back to him.  It took all he could not to fling the food in the man’s face or keep him from making an over-dramatic delivery.  He wasn’t a House-elf.  Perhaps if the man got off his fat arse once in a while he’d lose a stone or two.  

Harry hid his snort of a laugh in a cough.  He was starting to turn into Draco.  And damn if that thought didn’t make him smile.  He poured himself orange juice with a grin.  Draco would be proud of him for this.  For changing from the broken, battered servant to a smart-mouthed, glaring boy worthy of Slytherin.  There were still moments, of course, and triggers that set Harry off, and he figured there would be for a long time yet, but from where he had been two years ago when the Malfoys rescued him, to where he was now, seemed like a lifetime.  Seemed like someone else’s life, actually.

He read about the ongoing hunt for Sirius Black and his mind wandered to his Godfather.  He hoped the other was safe, where ever he was, and that he was comfortable.  It was still strange to think about, but he had been innocent when he had been imprisoned.  Mentally sending off his best wishes for the man, he took his time when he reached an article written by Pansy’s mother on whether or not Dark Arts should be taught in schools.  It was thoughtful and informative and, for the most part, unbiased.  Harry made a mental note to write Pansy and tell her he liked the article.  

“Have a good day at work, dear.”

Harry looked up from his paper and watched as Petunia walked Vernon to the door.  He folded his paper and gathered the dirty dishes to was, just managing to set them in the pan to drip dry when Petunia walked in and handed him a list of things to finish.  It was long and Harry swallowed down a groan.  She had planned on working him to exhaustion while she still had him.  Or to keep him around to his embarrassment when the Malfoys arrived and he hadn’t finished.

He set off to work.

Luckily, they’d assigned him the outdoor tasks yesterday, possibly out of fear that they Malfoys would show up before he could finish, and that they would have to do the work themselves.

Laundry was next, which always took a long time, due to the sheer amount of fabric that went into Vernon and Dudley’s clothes.  Once the first load was in, he got started on clearing off the bathroom counters and scrubbing them down.  After that was the sink and bathtub.  Once he was finished with that, he switched the laundry into the dryer and added in load two.  With that running, he started on the bathroom floor.

The cycle continued like that until Harry had three baskets full of neatly folded clothes, and the bathroom and hallway were spotless.  He put away all the clothes (one basket for Uncle Vernon, half of one for Aunt Petunia, and one and a half for Dudley), and then got started on the dusting.

By the time he got done with that, it was time to fix Dudley’s lunch - three turkey sandwiches stacked high with cheese, with two sodas and nearly half a bag of crisps - and then it was off to vacuum the living room.

As he did that, the radio on the mantle played a catchy pop song for the fourth time in the past hour.  It would bother him more if the song hadn’t been stuck in his head now, and he started quietly singing along as he vacuumed.

“Don’t turn around,”  He murmured, swaying slightly as he tried to get up a particularly stubborn group of crisp crumbs.  “‘Cause you gunna see my heart breaking.”

The combination of the music and the noisy machine made it so that he missed the sound of knocking on the door, as well as the slightly panicked spell that followed. “Don’t turn around, I don’t want you seeing me cry.”

Finally getting up the last of the stray bits, he swung the vacuum around, and catching the three sets of curious eyes watching him.

Harry went red and choked off mid-word, stumbling backward until he tripped over the cord and felt backward, sprawled out in a remarkably undignified manner.  There was a moment of silence before Draco burst out laughing.

Sitting up and rubbing his lower back, Harry reached with free hand to shut off the machine and glared at the other boy.  “Git,”  He growled, giving a severe frown. This did not deter Draco in the least, and in fact only made Narcissa’s lips twitch like she wanted to join her son.  

Finally managing to get back on his feet, Harry felt his irritation drain away.  “Hello.  Now that we’ve gotten my humiliation out of the way, shall I go get my stuff?”

“Oh, of all the moment’s not to have a camera.  Pansy’s going to kill me.”  Draco ran a hand though his hair, making a few light stands fall into his face.  Harry looked away quickly.  

He started up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “You tell Pansy about this and it’ll be war.”

Draco followed after, looking unimpressed by his threat.  “I don’t think you know anything humiliating about me that she doesn’t already know.”

Thinking for a moment, Harry replied, “She doesn’t know how much you like those Muggle cartoon movies.  I’m sure she’d have a blast with that.”

“You’d have to explain what they are, first.  Too much effort.”

Harry entered his room and threw the ratty pillow, hitting Draco in the face.  “All I have to say is cute talking animals, and draw a couple of pictures.  That’s all she’d need.”

Flopping down on the bed and tossing the pillow onto the edge of it, Draco shrugged.  “You wouldn’t do that.  You’re too much of a bleeding heart.  Besides, you like me too much for that.”

Something about the tone made Harry turn to look at him for just a second.  The blonde’s face was teasing, but his eyes had just a hint of something serious behind them.   “Yeah, I suppose I do.  I’m kind of an idiot like that.”

The serious glint turned into something warm, and it made Draco’s eyes look almost molten.  Harry looked back away.  “It just proves I managed to make you develop some taste.”  He declared, and Harry snickered as he lifted up his trunk.

After a couple of glares and pointed hints, Draco reluctantly helped Harry get the trunk and Hedwig’s cage downstairs.  As they made their way back to the door, he spotted his aunt’s eyes tracking him with dislike and suspicion, before the kitchen door shut with a deep, heavy noise.

Turning to Narcissa and Lucius, who were eyeing the door with a frosty sort of disapproval, he asked as cheerfully as he could, “Back to the Manor, then?”

They Apparated with the familiar squeezing, graying feeling as normal and popped back into existence at the Manor.  Harry let Draco drag him up to his room and Harry walked inside with a light feeling of joy.  He spotted Ananta lounging on a branch of a false tree in a flood of sunlight.  He crossed to the snake which lifted his head before moving to wrap around Harry in greeting.  Harry stroked his fingers over the snake, smiling lazily at the familiar weight against his shoulders.  

“Missed him, did you?”

“Missed _this_.”  Harry crossed to the bed and sat down, toeing off his shoes and lying back against the headboard.  “It’s amazing what a week away can do.  It makes me feel itchy and restless and trapped.  It astonishes me how I put up with it for years.”

“You didn’t know different.”  Draco’s voice was low and careful and he slid onto the bed and stretched out next to Harry and looked up at the ceiling.  “Now you’re just learning that you’re worth more than the things they put you through.”

Harry was quiet for a long moment before he looked over at Draco and smiled softly.  “Thanks.”

“It’s true.  You’re a powerful wizard, an advanced potioneer, and a very good friend.”

Harry eyed Draco for a long moment, not saying anything, before he gave a slow nod.  “Who are you and what did you do to Draco Malfoy?”

Draco snorted quietly and smacked him on the back of the head, making him laugh.  “Shut it, you.  I can’t have layers?”

“Of course you can, it’s just terrifying when you reveal them.”

Draco shook his head with a look of disbelief.  “Want to get some lunch?”

“I could stand to eat.”

Draco poked Harry in the ribs and smirked at the squeak Harry made.  “You could always stand to eat.”  

Draco climbed from the bed and watched as Harry did the same.  They made their way to the dining room and Draco called out for Dobby.

“Dobby is here.  What can Dobby be getting?”

“I’ll take a turkey sandwich and some macaroni salad.  Harry, what did you want?”

“That sounds good.”

Dobby bowed, his ears flapping and he moved from the room with a crack.  Under a minute later their spots had two plates of food and a glass of pumpkin juice each.  Harry took a bite of his sandwich and watched as Draco stood from the table and crossed to a small hutch.  Draco pulled out a deck of cards and a cribbage board and set the deck of cards on the table and it shuffled before dealing out cards.  The board set up and Harry picked up his hand.  

This is what he loved.  Simple, calm things with Draco.

~*~

 

Harry went to bed early and woke late, despite having the same reoccurring nightmares.  He slept through breakfast and it was almost noon by the time he made his way into the library.  Draco was sitting in the bay window, reading, and Harry watched him quietly.  He loved to watch Draco when he was relaxed and sure no one was looking at him.  He sat with a relaxed posture and his mouth moved minimally as he read to retain the information.  Harry realized Draco was taking notes as he read, doing so with such an ease that he needn’t look over to the parchment as he wrote.  Harry was sure that the lines would be straight and that his small, loopy, neat writing would be clean.  

Making noise as he walked further into the room, Harry watched and smiled as Draco lifted his head from the page of the book, his left hand still moving as he wrote.  

“Morning.”

“Afternoon,”  Draco corrected lightly, giving an impish grin.

“What are you reading?”

“Theoretical Transfiguration.”  

Harry gave a mute nod and crept closer, looking down at Draco.  His hand was smudged with ink and there was a sticky black line over one of his left cheek and across his nose.  Draco had a habit of touching his face when he was thinking.  

“Professor McGonagall would be proud.”

Draco gave a rolling snort and slipped a piece of leather into the book and closed it.  He spelled his hands clean and Harry pointed to his own face to show Draco where else he was marked.  Draco did away with it quickly.  Harry felt a small pang when he realized that he could technically use magic outside of school again.  

He made sure to make a note to practice his potions before the World Cup.  

“Hungry?”

Harry nodded his head.  “Yeah.  Suppose it’s too late for breakfast.”

“Not at all.  Come on, we’ll get you well and fed.”

The day passed in the normal blur of magic and gentle warmth, and soon Harry found himself in his bed again, unwilling to go back to sleep and face the nightmares.  Absentmindedly, he raised a hand to rub against his scar.  It throbbed with a sort of phantom pain, as he remembered the way it had felt after that nightmare.

He already knew that scar pain matched up to Voldemort being up to something, but now that time separated him from that dream, he couldn’t really remember much.  There had been Voldemort, an old man, and a creepy run down house, a giant snake, Pettigrew, and someone else...

Snorting, Harry rolled his eyes.   _And you were there... and you were there..._ Really, unless he could remember more than that the information was pretty useless.

Then again, it might only seem that way because he lacked background information. And it was kind of stupid to keep anything about Voldemort to himself, wasn’t it?

What to do...

The decision was taken out of his hand when a brightly coloured bird tapped at the window to Malfoy Manor.  Harry let it in, carefully avoiding it’s vicious looking beak.  He’d learned his lesson last time.  He took the note from it and let it perch where it pleased while it waited for his reply.

This was the second letter Harry had gotten from Sirius this summer. According to them, the man was enjoying himself somewhere to the south, out of the Ministry’s range.  If Harry had to venture a guess, he’d say some place in South America, due to the birds.  Then again, he wasn’t sure he was being told the truth at all.  If he was trying to lay low, why send these very obvious birds?  Hedwig was fairly distinctive, but not so much as anything not native to Europe.  It seemed more likely he was closer, and didn’t want Harry to know for some reason.  Maybe the notion that he would worry to much - Sirius was a Gryffindor, after all.

So far the correspondence had been very warm, and were Harry a bit more trusting he’d no doubt be spilling his heart to the man.  The idea of writing to him about the dream came less from wanting to get it off his chest, and more from the fact that it was a very Godfather/Godson thing to do, and that idea made a little ember of warmth form in Harry’s stomach.

Harry decided that telling Severus (he was slowly getting used to that.  Very slowly) would also be wise, if only because the professor was the person Harry trusted most not to sugar coat things for him.  But this was the sort of thing he’d rather talk about then write - if nothing else, it had less chance of somehow ending up in the wrong hands.

Scribbling down something quickly, Harry handed it back to the maybe-an-actual-tropical-bird, which eyed him like it was wondering how much damage it could do in the least amount of time, and flew back off.

Shutting the door behind it, Harry flopped back in the bed and stared at Hedwig’s empty cage.  Movement caught his eye, and he turned to see Ananta making his way off the rock and into Harry’s bed to curl himself around the boy’s waist, like a fancy belt.  The snake had been growing, he realized with a bit of a jolt.  Now he was nearly a meter long, and it took a few coils before he managed to get comfortable.

“ _You smell anxious_.”  Ananta informed him, flicking his tail against Harry’s side.

Chuckling, Harry ran his finger’s down his back, tracing the white and dark red patterns.  “ _I suppose I would_.”

“ _Will I be needed to help with this_?”  The snake sounded both willing and reluctant.  Really, he was starting to get a bit lazy.  Harry should try working with him more, if only to give him something to do other than chase mice.  Though, chasing rats seemed like a very good idea now.

“ _I do not believe so._ ”  He replied, and Ananta shifted as though pleased.

Harry continued to pet the creature, enjoying the slick warmth of it.  The movements of the coils were rhythmic and soothing.  Almost like counting sheep.

Slowly, Harry’s movements started to falter, and he relaxed into the bed.

Right before he fell asleep, he thought he heard a hiccuping sort of hiss, almost like a laugh.

“ _Silly human.  You do not even know when you need aid.  I will have to watch over you._ ”

That night, Harry slept without nightmares.

~*~

The next few days had been filled with getting Ananta to finally do his job.  Harry blamed himself for letting the snake get so lazy.  However, once they got into the rhythm the snake loved working with potions almost as much as Harry.  He would coil around the bubbling pewter cauldron with a delighted hiss as Harry and Draco worked on familiar and unfamiliar things to test their abilities and to help around the house.  Harry had finally managed to make an extra strong headache cure that had turned out to be handy when Lucius had a bad day dealing with politicians.  

Right now Harry was relaxing in the back gardens by the pool, watching Draco splash about in a surprisingly dignified manner.  A tawny owl swooped over the pool as Draco dove and landed next to Harry’s lounge chair.  Harry tossed the owl - Nimue - a treat and watched as she ate it happily.  He untied the letter from Pansy and watched as the owl took flight again.  Harry had been writing her since he arrived back at the Manor.  He knew that despite all of her gossipy behaviour he could trust her when it came down to the important things.

And this was important.

Harry looked over at Draco, who was doing laps, before he unrolled the letter and pushed up his sunglasses to read.  

 __

Harry,

 _I feel like a proud mother, or a proud older sister right now.  I can’t tell you how thrilled it makes me that you’re coming to me for relationship advice.  Or rather, advice on love.  I know that the way Muggles view love is entirely different than the Wizarding world.  In the Muggle world love is almost a shameful thing; something to be locked away in a room and hidden.  In our world it could not be more different.  Love is in many ways, the source of magic - and here I go sounding like a ruddy greeting card, or worse a Gryffindor - but it’s true.  You don’t need to be ashamed of who you fall in love with, even if that person is another boy. **Especially** if that person is another boy.  You will be treated no differently, especially not by Slytherins who are used to as many different familial combinations as you can think of: two mothers, two fathers, group marriages, lovers on the side... Just be yourself. _

_As for people gawking at you, I think that’ll happen no matter what.  You must remember that to them you’re Harry Potter, saviour of the sodding world (she says while she rolls her eyes), and so you will always be watched.  I don’t think people will be mad either way, if you date a boy or a girl.  People will just be mad it isn’t them._

 _Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy._

 _~ Pansy._

 _PS:  See you at the match._

 _PPS:  You better pull for Bulgaria or Draco will never forgive you._

 _PPPS:  Blaise and I are betting against Bulgaria just to see Draco’s face._

 _PPPPS:  Read Wizards for Wizards.  
_

Harry grinned at the letter before folding it up and tucking it into his shorts as he reclined back and pulled on his sunglasses.

“Who was that from?”

Harry opened his closed eyes and looked over at Draco, who was patting his arms and legs dry before draping his towel over his shoulders.  Harry pushed away his thoughts; Draco was his best friend, he shouldn’t think of him like that, and let his head fall back against the back of the chair.

“Pansy.  She says hi.  She’s excited for this weekend.”

“Too right she is.  It’s going to be amazing.”

Harry heard movement and the sound of a bottle being opened and squinted over at Draco again.  He was drinking some lemonade that the elves had brought out.  Harry stared for a moment, before biting back a groan and shoving his glasses and sunglasses on top of his head as he scrubbed at his eyes.  He was going crazy.  This couldn’t be happening.  

“Are you going to come in?”

“Huh?”  

Draco draped his towel over the back of his chair and stretched languidly.  “For a swim.  Are you coming?”

“Oh.  No thanks.  I’m enjoying the sun.”

Draco nodded his head absently and Harry watched him as he padded his way over to the deep end of the pool.  Draco climbed up the ladder to the diving board and bounced on the end, checking the spring.  Backing up a bit, Draco ran up the board and leaped when he hit the edge.  He hit excellent height and arced slowly, pulling into a dive before plunging into the water with minimal splash.  Harry watched him resurface and toss his damp, slightly curled hair from his eyes.

His stomach tightened.

He was screwed.


	2. Aerial Combat

The morning of the Quidditch Cup started before the sun. A House-elf appeared in Harry’s room and enthusiastically woke him by making the mattress jump. After a few minutes of cursing, Harry managed to untangle himself from the blankets and Ananta. Slowly the cobwebs faded and a jolt of excitement shot through him.

It was _today_!

He got ready in record time, and after a few minutes decided not to bring Ananta with him. The snake did not have any good thoughts about flying, and in a crowd could either cause a bit of a panic or get hurt. Possibly both.

Once finished he grabbed the bag he had packed the night before and ducked out, making his way down the hall towards Draco’s room. He burst in, not bothering to knock, only to find the other boy still sprawled out on his bed, regardless of the House-elf’s best efforts.

A smirk crossed Harry’s face. He was going to enjoy this.

Backing up a few steps, Harry took a flying leap and landed on the bed next to the other boy, smacking him full in the chest with one outstretched arm. Draco gave a loud ‘Umf!’ before kicking and flailing in panic, managing to toss himself off the mattress altogether and to land in a tangled heap of sheets and long pale limps.

Harry was far too busy laughing to help Draco get himself free. Because of this, he was unprepared when the other boy launched himself at Harry, knocking him flat, and grabbing a pillow to his the still chuckling brunette.

“You prat!” Draco declared, mashing the pillow all the harder into Harry’s face. “What was that for?”

Kicking at the slightly larger boy until he managed to get free, he responded, “You didn’t wake up. It’s the World Cup today!” He grabbed the pillow from Draco and made a swipe at his side. “C’mon, get up! If we’re late because of you I’ll never forgive you.”

The Malfoy heir grumbled but got off the bed towards a neat stack of clothes. Harry flopped back, so he was sprawled out and relaxed into Draco’s bed, completely comfortable. He closed his eyes and let out a happy sigh.

A pause in the noise of rustling fabric made Harry crack his eyes open, and he saw Draco staring at him, eyes slightly distant. When he noticed Harry’s attention, his posture went suddenly straight and he glanced away. At this angle, the brunette could see the tips of his fair ears turn red.

That was weird.

“Stop daydreaming and get ready!” Harry called, throwing the pillow across the room so that it smacked into blonde hair.

Draco huffed at him, but did speed up a bit. He started mumbling under his breath about how unnatural it was to get up before the sun had even rose, and Harry ignored the complaints with practiced easy.

A short time later found them read to go, and Draco awake enough to have caught Harry’s excitement. They went down the stairs two at a time, skidding to a halt in the foyer. Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for them, wearing robes that were somewhat fancier than they normally wore. Seats in the Minister’s box were something to get dressed up for, Harry guessed.

Glancing down at the boys, Lucius asked, “Are you two ready?”

He got two sets of grins, before Draco schooled his features into something more aristocratic. “Yes, sir!” They chorused.

“Right, then.” The group of them made their way out of the grounds and passed the gates. Not too far from the entrance was some sort of discarded metal rod.

Narcissa picked it up in one hand, looking vaguely disgusted to be holding it. “Alright, grab on, everyone.”

The two male Malfoys did so without hesitation, and it only took Harry a second to follow. “What is this thing?” He asked.

Wide grey eyes met his gaze, and Draco ducked his head a bit. “He doesn’t know what a Portkey is. Oh, we have so much to cover.” He glanced back up, voice falling into the slightly impatient tone he took whenever he had to explain something, be it the magical world to Harry or why Pansy was not allowed to brush his hair, _thank you very much_. “A Portkey is an object that transports you long distances. On the plus side, it’s less dangerous than Apparation, and can take you farther away. It also doesn’t take any power to use them. The downside is that they’re hard to make, and that they have to be something a Muggle wouldn’t want to pick up if they saw it laying around.”

Nodding in understanding, Harry smiled his thanks before glancing at Lucius, who had pulled out a pocket watch. “It goes in 7...6...5...4...3...2...-”

There was a jerking sensation, like Harry had been grabbed round the middle and yanked. The world seemed to spin into a blur, and Harry had only a moment to think about how much more he like Apparation before his feet hit solid ground with a jolt and he ended up on his knees in a grassy field.

Draco was snickering at him, seeming to enjoy Harry’s pain after the way he got jumped earlier, and Harry shot him a playful scowl before getting back up.

“Ten past five from Malfoy Manor.” A voice noted. Harry glanced up to see two wizards, both dressed in the most ridiculous Muggle outfits he had ever seen. One was holding a big gold pocket watch, and the other had a long list and a quill, which he was using to scratch a line across. “Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I’d hurry out of here - we’ve got a big group coming in just a few.

Giving them an imperious nod, Lucius led them further into the marsh they had landed in. It was misty out, and hard to see far. Soon enough, though, they came across a stone house, from which a Muggle appeared. He looked dazed and confused, and blinked at them in a blank sort of way as they paid for their spots. It reminded Harry of how Lockhart had looked after the Obliviate had backfired on him, and he looked away, uncomfortable.

They walked up a long hill once they passed the house and when they reached the top of it, Harry looked out in wonder. A field as far as eye could see was flooded with tents. The tents were as varied as a person could be, ranging from a small pup tent to large sprawling things that looked almost like a house, complete with picket fences and flower pots. Harry followed after the Malfoys in quiet amazement.

“Here we are,” Narcissa finally said, reading off a paper. “Lot 2033 Apple.”

Lucius nodded firmly and pulled something small and square out of his pocket before setting it in the middle of the large empty square. He flicked once with his wand and Harry watched as the square shivered before it puffed up and expanded with a rush of wind. The tent was elegant, in a way he was sure tents were not supposed to be. It was sleek and dome shaped as opposed to the traditional triangular shape, and had four chairs that sprang out onto the grass along with a small table.

“Lovely.” Narcissa lifted the flap and walked inside, followed closely by Lucius and Draco. Harry waited a moment before following after.

The inside was even more impressive. Instead of canvas and the like, the floor was smooth, glossy black tile. In fact, the tent in some ways, reminded him of the Manor. In a much smaller, somewhat more sterile way.

“Are you coming or not?”

Harry’s head whipped to the side to see Draco making his way up a spiral staircase and he grinned before taking off after the blonde.

“We’re going to have to share. Mum could only find a two bedroom tent with a full bathroom on such short notice.”

“S’fine. I already know you snore.”

“I do not snore. I breathe heavily in a dignified manner.”

Harry hid his snort in a cough and walked into the bedroom. It was large, no where near as large as his bedroom in the Manor, but no less impressive. He took the bed to the left which was near the window and dropped down on it.

“The match isn’t until tonight. But Mother gave us permission to walk around. I know Pansy and Blaise are here somewhere, we should look for them.”

Harry nodded his head. “Alright, that sounds like fun.”

Draco nodded and pulled on his messenger bag before Harry did the same and they headed out together after telling Draco’s parents. There were so many different kinds of people there, from all over the world. They passed a large group of people and Harry read the shining banner over their gathering _SALEM WITCHES AND WIZARDS_. Americans! Not far beyond them were a group of Germans from Dusseldorf and as they pressed on Harry found a group of Australians arguing some of the chosen players in the game with a bunch of Italians.

“Harry!”

Harry whirled at the voice and spotted Pansy seconds before he was tackled to the grass. Her face was garishly painted in white, orange and green. A large splotchy shamrock was on her cheek and as she righted, he noticed every so often it switched sides. Blaise wasn’t far behind her, his face wasn’t painted but he was wearing a jersey for the Irish team with the number 18 emblazoned on his chest and back and the name Barry across his broad shoulders.

Draco’s face turned a rather impressive shade of pink and he stomped his foot childishly. “I thought we all agreed to support Bulgaria! We were all going to wear jerseys for Krum! I bought them special.”

“How can we bet against you when we’re all on the same team?” Pansy asked, sidling against Draco with a sickly sweet smile. “How else will I rob you blind?”

Draco puffed out his cheeks and Harry thought he might be on the verge of an impressive tantrum when the blonde suddenly looked at Harry. “You’re not betraying me too, are you?”

Harry was shocked but managed a rather casual shrug. “I’ll wear Krum’s number.”

Draco relaxed and patted Harry on the head. “That’s a good pet.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed and he snapped at the other boy’s hand playfully, laughing when Draco snatched his hand back quickly.

“You boys go talk brooms, I’m going to take Harry to get some facepaint.” Before Harry could protest he was being dragged away by Pansy. Once they were a considerable difference away from Draco and Blaise she pulled something out of her satchel. “I brought this for you.”

Harry blinked and looked down at what she was holding. It was a simple black book with the title Wizard for Wizard on it. He cleared his throat and looked around to see if anyone was watching before taking the book and opening it. He thumbed through the pages before he coloured darkly.

“Pansy, this is a sex book!” His voice was a low whisper.

“Not all of it. It really is the most clear guide on queer wizard on wizard relationships.”

Still blushing, Harry shoved the book into his own bag and wrapped his arms around Pansy in a hug. “Thanks.”

“Anytime, now, let’s get the Bulgarian flag painted on your face.”

“But --” Harry was yanked by his collar before he could muster an argument.

After getting painted, Harry spent the next few minutes twitching his nose, trying to get at the uncomfortable itch the thick colouring on his face caused. He had reached up to scratch at it, but Pansy had glared and threatened to strangle him with one of his scarves if he ruined her work.

Following that they started to wander around as a group again. A lot of the wizards were dressed as Muggles, like the two officials had been. One man was even wearing a woman’s nightgown, insisting that he required a breeze for his lower areas.

The remaining wizards and witches were mostly dressed up to support their teams. Small children ran about, causing general mayhem where ever they went. (“Kevin! We do _NOT_ play with Daddy’s broom!” “Jacob, you get down from there! You are not to go above five feet, do you understand?”) It all seemed like a bad idea, considering that the area was Muggle, but everyone seemed to have forgotten.

There were a surprising amount of Hogwarts students in attendance as well. Harry caught sight of the two Gryffindor boys Ron and Neville shared a dorm with talking in front of a tent covered in shamrocks. He waved a bit when they noticed him, and they looked friendly enough until they realized he had Bulgarian colours on his face. When wandering around, he also noticed Oliver Wood, now a former-Gryffindor, one of the Hufflepuffs in their year, and the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang.

Harry kept craning his neck to look at the various decorations and odd happenings, and so he wasn’t really paying attention to where he was going. Thus, it wasn’t much of a surprise when he rammed straight into someone, and just barely managed to keep his feet. He coloured and opened his mouth to apologize, and then lost his voice when I realized who exactly he had knocked into.

“Hello, Harry.” Cedric Diggory greeted, having to look straight down to see the smaller boy. The thought of how solid and warm the Hufflepuff’s chest had been ran through Harry’s mind, and he went an even darker shade of red. “Sorry about that, wasn’t really looking around, was I?” He chuckled and took a step back.

Shaking his head, Harry responded, “N-no, it was my fault, sorry. I was looking at those three guys with the purple fire, and-” He cut off, realizing he was babbling. “Hi. How has your summer been?”

A quiet snort came from the older boy. “Boring. Dad is trying to convince me to prepare for a job in the Minsitry, like him. But how dull can you get?” He rolled his eyes fondly. “How about you?”

Trying to fight down the blush, Harry shrugged back, going for calm and cool. “Oh, not much. Besides, everything seems dull when compared with one of these, right?”

Cedric started laughing, and Harry thought it was a really nice sound. “Too right!” He patted Harry on the shoulder, who tried not to beam in response.

A warm presence at his shoulder made Harry crane his head around, and saw Draco standing there with a mulish expression. “C’mon, Harry, you’re making us wait up.”

“Ah, don’t be too hard on Harry. I distracted him, I think. Sorry about that.” Cedric grinned, looking terribly chivalrous.

Draco did not seem to think of it that way. “Don’t let it happen again.” He sniffed, reminding Harry of Narcissa when around things she didn’t think up to her standards, before dragging the brunette away by one arm.

Waving back at Cedric, Harry called, “See you later!” before a sharp jerk from Draco made him stumble and have to look down to keep from ending up on the ground. “What was that for?” He demanded once they were out of earshot.

A sniff came from Draco. “You were holding us up. It was very inconsiderate.”

“More than when you wanted to look at the one tent with the vines growing out of it?” Harry pointed out, temper flaring a bit. Draco ignored him until they were caught up with Blaise and Pansy, the later of whom was eyeing him with mixed displeasure and amusement.

The amusement won out, and she gave him a sly look. “Seems you’ve found a reason to practice some of the stuff in that book I showed you.” She drawled.

Harry went bright red.

Glancing between them, Blaise asked, “What book?”

Going even redder, Harry shrugged. “A Quidditch book.” He went a head of them and started walking, forcing them to keep up. “Oh, look, souvenirs!” He voice maybe have been just slightly strangled, but thankfully no one called him on it.

The group of them ended up with a pair of Omnioculars each. Harry got a giant hat in the Bulgarian colours for the match, and Draco got a tiny fleet of flying figurines of the team. Pansy and Blaise ended up with posters of the Irish team, if only to watch Draco have a fit.

Finally, the sun was inching towards the treeline, and so they split up to head to the stadium. Harry was practically buzzing with excitement as he grabbed Draco’s arm and dragged him towards their tent. It was time!

Harry was only half listening to Draco chattering away as they climbed the immense set of stairs towards the Minister’s Box. He was broken from his muddled thoughts and looked around at the familiar sound of Ron’s voice.

“Ron!”

Ron’s head appeared over the railing three levels up. “Heya, Harry!”

Neville and Hermione’s faces appeared as well as Fred and George’s as well as two other Weasley’s he didn’t recognize. Ron was painted up in Bulgarian colours but Fred and George were pulling for Ireland. Harry was going to say something before he noticed Cedric off to George-or-Fred’s left. He was split down the middle, clearly supportive of both teams and something inside of Harry squirmed.

“Harry, you interested in putting some gold down on the match?” Fred-or-Geroge asked.

“George!” Hermione’s voice reprimanded. “Harry will not be gambling!”

Harry’s brow rose at the reprimand from the girl. “Put me down for five galleons on Krum catching the snitch.”

Fred nodded his head and scribbled it down and Harry met him on the stairs to hand him his ante.

“Pleasure doing business with you, mate.”

Harry watched as the Weasley brood and Cedric moved off and smiled dumbly before he was grabbed about the wrist by Pansy. He stumbled as he began walking again and they found their way to the box. Fudge was there and beaming away as he usually was, if his expression was a little vacant. .

“This view is amazing!” Pansy put her Omnioculars to her face and looked around. “I bet I can see the pores in Moran’s skin with these.”

Harry dropped into his seat between her and Draco. “I’m sure Moran has nice skin.”

“Shush! The mascots are coming.”

Harry put his Omnioculars to his face and watched as the Leprechauns did a jig and gold burst through the crowds. Harry gathered a galleon from his lap and turned it over in his hands.

“It’s fake gold. It’ll disappear in a few hours.” Blaise barely looked away from the field. “Tricky things.”

Harry put his Omnioculars back to his eyes and looked down at the pitch. The Leprechauns were gone and instead there was a group of silver haired, beautiful girls dancing. Harry’s head felt a little fuzzy as he watched them.

“What are _those_?”

“Veela,” came Narcissa’s voice. “Enchantress creatures. And very dangerous too. Someone catch Blaise before he goes over the railing.”

Harry watched as Pansy’s father snatched hold of Blaise’s shoulder and jerked him back from the edge of the box. “Sit down, son. No need to be making a spectacle.”

Harry looked over at Pansy who looked aggravated as her eyes bore holes in the back of Blaise’s head. He smiled faintly before putting on a stern face when she looked his way. At least he hadn’t made a fool of himself.

A fellow the Minister had called Ludo was now announcing something about the mascots. Harry leaned over excitedly, only to end up bumping into a small form. He jerked back and saw a House-elf gazing at him with wide eyes. She - something about the lashes and the shape of the body made Harry think ‘female’ - was sitting next to an empty seat. “Y-you is Harry Potter!” She gasped.

Blinking at her, Harry shrugged a bit. “Suppose I am.” Another thought struck him and he gazed at the two seats. “No offense, but what are you doing here? I wouldn’t think many House-elves could come to the World Cup.”

Her eyes looked even bigger as she send him a dumbstruck look. “These seats are not for me, Mr. Harry Potter, sir. They are for my master.”

“Oh.” He replied intelligently, as Draco went into spasms as the Bulgarian team flew out. When Krum’s name was called, both the Malfoy heir and Ron let out cheers, and then promptly pretended they hadn’t just agreed on something, even if it was supporting the greatest Seeker in current play. “I hope you enjoy the game anyway.” He told her. He ignored her even more shocked look as he payed attention to the game.

The Omnioculars were the best thing Harry had bought in ages, he decided. They slowed down or replayed things they saw as desired, while the game started up, it as almost more fun to catch people in the stadium do embarrassing things, such as one guy who got hit full in the face by a drink thrown by an excited child, and they replay it.

Another nice thing was that it saved something like little movies if he so desired. At one point, when he turned to follow a few players, he caught a really nice shot of Cedric tossing his hair out of his eyes and grinning excitedly as he leaned forward on the rail. When he did so, his robes slipped and showed a bit more shoulder than normal.

Harry thought he might be keeping that bit for a while.

Soon enough he forgot all about that as the action got heated. Whenever a particular play got used, the name of it would show up on the lenses (“Double Eight Loop”), which was fantastic when he watched Krum - Harry had quite a few new ideas he’d like to try this upcoming year.

The Irish scored goal after goal, and after the first time Harry missed a goal due to the slow-motion of the Omnioculars, he scowled and then put them down, determined to catch the action in real time.

The green-clad side of the stands were going nuts, and it was only getting worse. It was like Bulgaria didn’t have a defense at all. Finally, Bulgaria scored their first goal, and the Veela got started up again, which made Pansy have to grab onto Blaise again, who looked rather sulky afterwards.

The action continued for ages in that respect, and Bulgaria seemed to be getting desperate. They started to pull moves that got them fouled, and Draco was shaking from holding back his furious shouts. His rage didn’t stop him from glaring at the referee in clear hatred.

The Veela were going nuts now, turning into shrieking, furious bird-like creature that threw fireballs. At one point, Krum got hit hard enough in the face to make his nose look terribly broken, and blood dripped from his face.

In short, it was chaos.

Suddenly, the Irish team’s Seeker dove, and Krum followed after. They followed it down...down... and then the green-clad man hit the ground with a sick looking jolt, and Krum was soaring back up, his hand clasped tightly around a struggling speck of gold.

The scoreboard said: IRISH 170 BULGARIA 160.

The twins were going wild in their seats, and Draco was spitting curses, decorum forgotten. Ron looked rather sulky, and Neville and Hermione were comforting him. Blaise and Pansy started whispering furiously to each other, and Harry figured they’d had some sort of bet going. Cedric looked flushed and pleased, and grinned when he caught Harry’s eyes. The younger boy grinned back, riding high on the excitement of it all.

This was the best first professional Quidditch match _ever_.

Finally, they all started to trickle out of the stadium. Harry noticed that whoever the girl House-elf had been waiting for had never shown. Blaise and Pansy made their way through first, singing the Irish National Anthem, which was making Draco sulk. It took a few moments for Harry to get passed his amusement to notice that the two were holding hands.

He elbowed Draco, who stopped pouting long enough to pay attention, and pointed to their linked fingers. The blonde’s pout grew into a smirk, and he practically cackled. “Oooh, what’s this, then? Zabini, what do you think you’re doing?”

Blaise looked coolly unaffected by Draco’s teasing. “I’m holding my girlfriend’s hand, Malfoy. Because unlike you, I know how to go for the people I want.” He twisted his arm so that he brought Pansy’s hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. She giggled and blushed, which Harry though had to be a sign of the end of the world.

Strangely enough, this rebuttal stopped Draco cold, and he went back to sulking, though this time it seemed to have more of a personal edge. It kept up until Harry wrapped a friendly arm around the boy. “Don’t worry about it. In fact, think of it this way. Blaise has to deal with _Pansy_ to get some love.”

That made Draco snicker, and Pansy didn’t even look back as she kicked toward him with a huff. She just leaned a little further into Blaise and flipped her hair.

As they made their way out, Cedric waved at him before disappearing into the crowd. Harry waved back for a long moment, feeling a tiny smile make it’s way onto his face.

Draco went back to sulking.

“In valley green, on towering crag our fathers fought before us and conquered ‘neath the same old flag that’s proudly floating o’er us!” Pansy’s singing was shrill and off key and was cut off in the middle when Blaise seized her about the waist and hauled her over his shoulder. She flailed her limbs about, her hair falling over her face in a curtain. “Blaise Zabini, this is most undignified!”

Blaise gave no verbal reply, instead he jostled his shoulders hard, sending her rolling and screeching with delight. Harry shook his head at the display, and looked at Draco who was scowling. He looked back at Pansy, who was now hanging over Blaise limply, her elbow bent and digging into Blaise’s shoulder in a likely painful manner as she propped up her chin. Bobbing with each step Blaise took. Harry gave her a questioning look and she looked back with an equally puzzled expression.

“Draco, love, are you upset that you lost the bet?” Pansy cooed out, reaching for Draco with her free hand.

“No.”

Pansy made a small face. “Are you upset at Blaise and I?”

“No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

The group stopped at a four way part of paths and Draco looked to Pansy. “I’m annoyed by your suddenly very Gryffindor like behaviour. Just because you and Blaise are in some kind of mentally deficient state of emotion doesn’t mean you should subject everyone around you to it.”

Before anyone could reply Draco stomped off towards their tent and Pansy gaped after him. “Draco!”

“I’ll tell you later, Pans.” Blaise’s voice was soft and he patted her jean clad leg.

Pansy harrumphed but motioned for Harry to hug her. Harry did, in this awkward move where he was half hugging Blaise and half hugging Pansy. He moved off and went to the tent, figuring the Blaise and Pansy would do the same while the adults had mentioned something about getting a few drinks.

Harry made his way into the tent and up the stairs. Draco was in his bed, curled in a ball with the covers over his head. Harry stared for a moment before showering quickly and changing. He moved to his own bed.

“They’re a little bit ridiculous, eh?” Draco gave no reply and Harry pulled his glasses off before setting them aside and climbed under the covers. “Good night, Draco.”

Harry fell asleep to the silence, his stomach churning unpleasantly.

A few hours later Harry was woken by Draco’s sleepy arguing and Lucius’ voice.

“Come now, Draco. We need to go. Change of plans.”

“No. Sleepin’. We can Portkey in the morning.”

In the faint moonlight and with his blurred vision, Harry could see Lucius looking frantic.

“Draco, you need to get up so we can wake Harry. I wish to return to the Manor right away...”

Harry drifted off with disjointed thoughts in his head.

“Harry! Harry wake up!”

Harry shot up in bed at Narcissa’s worried, whispered voice. He took his glasses from her hand.

“W’s goin’ on.”

“Shush. Stay low and keep hold of your wand.”

Harry looked to the doorway of the room, Lucius was silhouetted in the dark, only the moonlight and a very dim lumos lighting the room. Harry could see Draco pressed against Lucius’ side and he rushed over to his friend, who looked at him with a nervous face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Some kind of riot.”

Figured. Harry should have known Quidditch fans would be no different than football. They made their way down to the first level. Narcissa was clutching tight to Harry’s shoulder.

“Alright, we’re going to get outside, Lucius and I are going to go look for the Parkinsons, you and Draco need to go left, alright? If you see anyone you know stick with them. I don’t care if it’s the bloody Weasleys, do you understand me? You stick with them and as soon as you get the chance you Floo back to the Manor. Stay together, alright?”

Harry nodded and felt Draco take his arm, they were pushed from the tent. It was chaos. People were screaming and running. Harry looked frantically for anyone he knew as Draco pulled him into the mob.

As they made their way towards the wooded area, Harry caught sight of the yellowed glow of fire. His eyes went wide and he pressed himself closer to Draco. This wasn’t just some sort of riot, was it?

The two boys were jostled from side to side by panicked people, and soon they ended up with a clear view back.

Figures wearing dark cloaks were marching in a long line. All of them were wearing rather unsettling masks that disguised their faces. The flames grew higher and brighter as they passed, and just barely above the angry tongues of heat floated the Muggle man from before, along with a three others that could only be his family. They way they struggled and the light cast shadows on them made them look like sick puppets.

Bile rose to Harry’s throat and he grabbed Draco’s hand and dragged them both with new strength into the woods. When he glanced back, the blonde’s face was pale in the shadow of the trees, and his eyes wide.

“Death Eaters,” he breathed, and then gulped... “Father... he wanted to leave before...”

The implications of that weren’t something Harry wanted to think too hard on, and instead he pulled the boy farther away from the chaos. It grew steadily darker and quieter, and before the boy could think that maybe that had gone further than he wanted, they heard disjointed, familiar voices.

Going in that direction, Harry spotted Neville, Hermione and Ron. Draco froze upon seeing them, and hissed softly, “What are you still doing so close?”

Hermione blinked at him. “What do you mean?”

At first Draco didn’t answer, pushing farther into the woods until they couldn’t hear the crackling of flames and screams anymore. “You two need to get her out of here, fast. Didn’t you see who they were?”

The girl bristled slightly, even as she went paler. “I have as much right to be here as anyone!”

The Malfoy heir gave a frustrated groan, at his limit, and a hand settled on Hermione’s shoulder. “I think he means that you’ll be a target if they find you.” Neville told her softly, biting his lower lip. Despite his nervous expression, there was a sort of light in his eyes that said he’d die before that happened.

A gesture from Draco showed his agreements, even as he panted and glanced back towards the camp site with fearful eyes. Harry patted him on the shoulder and reached for his wand. The moon was blocked by the trees, and without the light of the fire it was nearly impossible to see anything. Patting down the pockets of his robes, Harry groaned, frustrated. “My wand!” He hissed. “It’s gone!”

“Are you _serious_?” Draco hissed at him, even as the Gryffindors each cast a lumos. A quick survey of the area revealed that the wand was no where to be found.

Rubbing his forehead, which was aching - from a headache or his scar, Harry couldn’t tell - he groaned again. “It probably got knocked out back at the camp.”

Draco let out a low noise, like an animal with a wounded leg.

Having nothing better to do, the group of them settled down. Ron kept glancing around, looking nervous. “I’d hoped to find Fred, George and Ginny.” He mumbled.

“I’m sure they’re okay.” Neville said. “If anyone can get out of this situation, it’s the twins. And they’ll keep Ginny safe, I’m sure.”

Ron looked calmer with that perspective, but before he could reply, someone crashed out of the foliage, looking haggard. “What’s going on?” Asked the boyish-looking man who’d announced the game. “What’s all the commotion about.”

Frowning at him, Harry replied, “I dunno, maybe the fact that people are being _attacked_?”

The man blinked at him. “People are what?” He gasped.

“Or maybe it was the Muggle family being dangled a couple stories up. Or the fires. Hard to tell really.” Harry went on, frown becoming closer to a sneer. If this man was important enough to be doing the announcing, he was probably supposed to be keeping an eye on the place as well.

Ludo the Announcer went pale,and cursed vehemently, before Disapparating with a ‘pop’. Harry eyed the empty spot for a moment before turning back to the other teenagers.

Eyeing him, Ron remarked, “That was creepy. You sounded just like Snape.”

A shrug was his answer, and Draco smirked slightly. “He would.” Was all he would say.

There was a moment of silence, before Ron pulled out a figurine of Krum from his pocket. “What a way to end something like this, huh? Wonder what they’re even doing here. I mean, what’s the point of attacking the _World Cup_? It’s not like there’s a big group of Muggles to attack or anything.”

“To scare people, I would imagine.” Draco drawled, though his eyes were sharp. “Remind them that they’re still around. And it was under the Ministry’s watch, wasn’t it? It’s a message. You are not safe.”

A shiver went around the group of them. “I hope they can get those Muggles down.” Hermione murmured.

“I hope they make it out of here alive.” Harry returned, leaning back.

She sniffed. “You don’t have to be so morbid.” Her tone suggested she really didn’t want to think of it, and she looked away.

Neville swallowed audibly. “Do they think that there will be no consequences to this? I mean, you’d think the Ministry would at least be able capture some. Maybe they’re drunk, but it seems stupid to do this kind of thing surrounded by people who could arrest-”

A rustling from the forest cut him off, and all five turned to look into the dark of the trees.

“Hello?” Ron called out. “Who’s there?”

Instead of answer his question, a voice roared out, making all of them jump.

“MORSMORDRE!”

Sickly green light jetted up between the trees, and when Harry craned his head back he could just barely make out a creepy symbol in the sky. It was a skull with a snake coming from the jaw, made of some sort of smoky substance.

Screams rang out from all directions, as if the strange shape was some sort of signal. Harry shivered, unnerved.

There was a loud crack of Disapparation, and Harry glanced into the woods. “We need to go. _Now_!” Draco hissed, tugging on his shirt.

“Why?” He asked, taking a few steps towards the blonde, trying to look at the symbol again.

Hermione made a choked little noise. “It’s the Dark Mark! It’s His symbol!”

No need to ask who ‘He’ was. Harry nodded and prepared to run, when a group of wizards, all holding their wands out, barreled towards them. All five hit the deck, just as the group cast ‘STUPIFY!’

Jets of red light went in all directions, and Harry could feel a breeze ruffle his hair from all the magic. The beams cast a eerie soft of cast, making the forest look more intimidating.

“STOP!” A voice cried out, sounding equal parts worried and furious. “ _That’s my son_!”

Harry rose his head from the dirt at Mr. Weasley’s name and watched as the older man gathered Ron in his arms. Seconds later Lucius Malfoy, decorum forgotten, barrelled through the people who had cast the spell.

“How _dare_ you cast a blind spell at children! At my son?!”

“Father it’s...” Draco’s voice was unnervingly shaking as he sat up and pressed to Lucius. “We didn’t cast it. We were here and...”

“Which one of you did it?!” A man Harry didn’t recognize pointed his wand at them, his hand shaking. “Was it you, Malfoy?”

“Oh yes, Crouch,” Lucius’ voice was dripping with venom as he stood. “Because my amends were all such a ruse. Idiot.”

Draco was looking at Lucius’ arm, his left one, which was pressed painfully against his side. “Does it hurt terribly?”

“Hush, Draco.”

“There was a man.” Harry finally broke the silence causing everyone to look at him. “Over there.” He pointed. “He did the...”

Everyone moved as a large, rushed group and wands were lit to cast a glow on the ground. The man from before - Crouch - picked up a wand and Harry realized with a sinking feeling it was his. Draco made a muted noise and they shared a look.

Hermione, however, failed to keep quiet. “Harry... Harry isn’t that _your_ wand?”

Five sets of accusing eyes turned towards Harry and he swallowed thickly. “Is it?” He squinted in the darkness. “I suppose it is. I lost mine in the --”

“Confession!” Crouch bellowed, pointing a finger at Harry. “You heard it from the boy’s lips. He said it was his wand! He cast it!”

“I did not! I don’t even know how to cast... what was it? Mars monster?”

Despite the tension Draco barked out a laugh. “No. That wasn’t it. It’s French, Harry. And be glad you don’t know it.”

Harry smiled nervously and watched as whispered conversations were had before Arthur Weasley took his wand and waved his own before muttering something and handing Harry back his wand. Harry took it gratefully and watched as Hermione, Ron and Neville walked off. Lucius and Crouch were having a stand off until finally Crouch nodded his head and Lucius sneered.

“Come along boys, we’ll be better at the Manor.”

Harry gave a rushed nod and the three headed off. He turned his head just in time to see the five people turn on their heels and disappear with a pop.

What on earth had happened?


	3. The Spark

Eventually, the three of them managed to find Narcissa, who took the two boys with her back to the Manor via a quickly procured Portkey.  They probably got it a lot faster than they should have, because no one really wanted to say no to Lucius on a moment.  The man was clearly beside himself, and kept dashing about, talking to various officials.  None of them walked away looking comfortable.

The Portkey ended up being an old umbrella.  Lucius declined taking it with the rest of the family - there were still a number of people unaccounted for, and a few people were talking about how the Muggles weren’t responding to any attempts to get them down.  In fact, one of the children wasn’t responding at all.  The members of the Ministry looked simultaneously thankful and suspicious at the help.

When they did make it back, Narcissa spent a few minutes interrogating them about any injuries they may have ended up with during their mad dash.  During the fussing, Harry was tired but pleased to be back home.  Draco, on the other hand, seemed to get more sullen and withdrawn as time passed.  

By the time Narcissa was contented, the first rays of sunshine were starting to show in the eastern facing widows, and she sent them off for a well-earned rest.  Draco spun on his heel and wandered up the stairs, nearly tripping a few times on the way, like he didn’t see them at all.  While the blonde wasn’t as graceful as he liked to say, it was still worrying to see him stumble about.

Rather than go to his own room, Harry followed Draco.  When he peeked his head into the other boy’s room, he saw him staring at the far wall, a deep wrinkle forming between his brows.

Harry got on the bed and squirmed over until he was pressing his shoulder into Draco’s.  “Want to talk about it?”

For a while, Draco said nothing.  Then, finally, he took a deep breath.  “Father tried to get us to leave early.  He woke me up, but I didn’t want to go.  Didn’t know what he was on about.”  He shrugged and leaned against Harry.

“So he knew about the attack before hand.”  Harry sighed.

“That what I believe.”

There was another long pause, and when Draco’s voice was low.  “Father was a Death Eater.”

Harry knew that.  Everyone knew that, really.  But it was jarring to hear him say it so openly.  “He was.”

With a jerky movement, Draco practically tucked himself into Harry’s side.  The brunette wrapped an arm around him in response.  “He did things like that, at the Cup.  Throw Muggles in the air.  Set fire to things.  Just to be scary.”  Making a choked little noise, Draco gripped at the sheets.  “He was a _Death Eater_.”

“But he’s not anymore.”  Gray, red rimmed eyes peered up at Harry.  “He probably did in the past, but he knew about the attack.  He was probably asked to be a part of it.  But he didn’t.”  He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts for a moment, before continuing.  “And your parents have taken me in  He’s had plenty of chances to off me, or attack Muggles in London, or anything like that.  Hell, didn’t he tell you to befriend me on the train.”  There was a nod against his shoulder.  “The way I see it, he chose not become a Death Eater this time.”

A sniffle came from Draco.  “But he still did those sorts of things before.  What changed?”

“Well that’s obvious, isn’t it? You happened.”  The blonde froze.  “Your parents love you, Draco.  So much.  It’s almost scary.  If your dad became a Death Eater again, then they would make him bring you into the fold, or at least hold you against him.  And when you were old enough, they’d do the same to you.  He doesn’t want that.  Narcissa too.  They’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Draco sighed and closed his eyes.  “That’s true.  But now they’re going to be after us all.  Father already said no. And we took you in.  If they’re back, they’re going to be after us.”

Shrugging with a confidence he didn’t feel, Harry responded, “Yeah, but now you guys are all together.  You’re Malfoys, aren’t you?  What chance do they have.”

Feeling Draco smile rather than seeing it was strange but nice.  “That is very true.  I knew I kept you around for a reason.”  He dragged Harry down until they were both laying flat.  “And you’re a Malfoy after a fashion.  So you’d better help.”

“Always.”  Harry said, feeling somehow like the word was an oath.  Either way it seemed to calm Draco, who slowly relaxed.

For a few long moments after Draco fell asleep, Harry pondered his own choices.  He had known that Lucius Malfoy had been a Death Eater, if only in a very abstract sort of way.  Why had he decided to go to the Manor for the first Christmas?  Draco had been his closest friend then, yes, but he had been more nervous over somehow ruining Christmas somehow (like the Dursleys always said he would) than he been over the idea that the Death Eater living there would kidnap and or kill him.  Had it been simple naivety?  Had he just trusted that the parents Draco always talked about so fondly could never do something so awful?

As he gazed at Draco with half-lidded eyes, Harry couldn’t bring himself to care what the reason had been.  He was simply glad he’d made the decision.

With that thought, Harry followed Draco off to sleep as the morning rays began to cast the room in warm light.

~*~

Harry hissed at a jab to his hip and sent a glare to the witch that was doing his fitting.  They had gone to Twilfitt and Tattings since that’s where they man who had previously done them some dress robes - Lyons - worked.  Harry still had no idea _why_ they needed dress robes.  His ones from two years previous still mostly fit.  Sort of.  A little.  

“Ow!  Watch it with those!”

“Sorry, dear.”  

“Well, we’ve already got your school robes and now we’re here for these.  After this...”

“I need to go to the apothecary, Mother.”

“Right.  And Harry wants to get his books.  We’ve already got yours and you can get Harry’s supplies while at the apothecary.  He’s made you a nice detailed list.”

Narcissa was still flicking her way through fabrics, lifting them up and examining them before tossing them aside.  “Once you two are finished here, you should go.  I’ll wait here while your robes are made and then you can come back once you’ve finished and then we’ll all have a nice lunch.”

Draco nodded distractedly, turning in place and watching as a extra bit of fabric on Harry’s shoulder kept slipping to reveal the white skin.  He lowered his eyes to the floor and bit the inside of his mouth.  

“Alright, young Master Malfoy, you’re all done here.”

Draco hopped off the pedestal and made his way to the changing room.  Harry watched him for a long moment before he was poked in the thigh and looked down.

“You’re done too, Master Potter.”  
After changing, Harry joined Draco outside the shop.  They walked down Diagon Alley together, looking in a few store windows before Draco headed off to the apothecary.  Harry walked in to Flourish and Blotts and pulled out his list of required texts before skimming the titles and took a basket to hold his purchases.  He added some books before browsing a few extra potions books, looking for anything interesting.  He spotted a few new ones on Defense as well and peered at them before moving up to the second floor.  He needed three more books.  

He found the first two easily before he looked around in vain for the last one.

Aha!  There it was!  At the top of a large bookcase.  Harry peered around for a step ladder or something to stand on.  He frowned and set the basket down and took a bit of a silly run and a leap, hoping to knock the book down.  He huffed and took hold of several large, thick books and piled them up before climbing on top of the teetering stack.  He pushed up on his toes and stretched his fingers out.

Almost...

“Careful!”

Harry spun at the voice before letting out a rather undignified yelp as his hand knocked hard at the books and sent the pile toppling over on his head and his balance upset and he sprawled out on the floor.  Harry frowned to himself.  Well played, truly remarkable.  

“You know, that’s why they have shop assistants.”  

Harry looked over from his sprawl towards the voice and turned a shade of red that resembled a tomato.  He couldn’t believe he had pulled a stunt like that and made a fool of himself in front of _Cedric Diggory_!  He rubbed the back of his head, making his hair ruffle up in a nervous lump and cleared his throat, trying to act casual.

“Well, I’m a free spirit, me.”

“So I see.”  Cedric offered a smile and extended out his hand, Harry took it and let himself be pulled up.  Cedric stooped down and picked up the book Harry had been aiming for.  “A Light in Darkness: A Theoretical Look at Defense.  This is advanced, isn’t it?”

“Er... Yeah.  More for... personal... you know... interest.... and stuff.”

Cedric smiled and piled up the extra books and placed them back on the top shelf without batting an eye.  He also took a few extra and slid them to a lower shelf and Harry coloured again and looked down at the floor.

“I’m pretty impressed, you know.  Defensive magic isn’t exactly my strong suit.  I’m good at Charms, myself.”

“Oh, I’m rubbish at Charms.”

“It’s all about the connection, you know?  Between you and the object.  There’s got to be a spark, right?”

Harry nodded mutely, his eyes locked on Cedric as he spoke.  He managed a garbled half-word that he thought sounded like agreement but he was pretty sure it wasn’t anything remotely English.  He smiled faintly when Cedric picked up the books he had placed down to help him up and tried to subtly track the movement with his eyes.  

“You’d do well to remember that.”

“Hm?”  Harry held the defensive magic book to his chest, hoping to cover his racing heart.  “Remember?”

“The spark thing.  A bit silly, I know, but it’s true.  Just remember the connection.”  Cedric tapped a finger to his temple and gave a lopsided grin.  “Anyway, I best be going.”  He clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder.  “See you around Harry.”

“Yeah.”  Harry raised a hand to wave limply at Cedric.  The other was already gone but Harry still waved.  “We’ll be seeing each other around.”

After ringing up his purchases, Harry made his way back towards the Apothecary, clutching _A Light In Darkness_ to his chest, a smile that must have looked rather goofy making itself at home on his face.  Other than the whole making a fool of himself thing, that had been great!  Cedric had even said he was impressed...

He was so distracted he nearly ran into Draco, he was waiting for him in front of his own store, looking impatient.  “Come on, then.  I can’t make these float with all these witnesses around, and more than half of these are yours.”  He paused, catching Harry’s bright expression.  “What happened to you?”

Harry shrugged, but the smile didn’t change at all.  “Just ran into Cedric Diggory, is all.  He helped me out getting some books, and gave me some advice on Charms.  Nothing big.”  

A scowl clouded Draco’s face, and he huffed and shoved a few bags into Harry’s hands.  “Oh, brilliant.  Diggory.”  

His tone was acidic enough to knock Harry out of the cloud he’d been drifting on.  “You don’t like Cedric?”

The scowl got more pronounced.  “He’s bloody brilliant.  Can we go now?”  Without waiting for a response, he started back down toward the tailors, posture ruler straight and untouchable.  Harry frowned after him.  What was he _on_ about?

When they arrived at Twilfitt and Tattings, Draco hadn’t calmed down, and kept up his stony silence.  Narcissa took one look at him and arched an elegant eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged at her, wide-eyed.  Eventually she seemed to take on a ignore-it-until-it-goes-away-or-we’re-not-in-public tactic, which was probably the best they could do for now.

Mr. Lyons was also waiting for them, and had their robes floating beside him.  Once again they were directed to put them on while some final adjustments were made.

Both had the same basic style - heavy robes that went on top and ended a little bit past the shoulder and went to the floor.  The fabric was thick and luxurious, but looked rather warm.  Strange choice for a summer robe.  Under those went a sort of vest that looked like it made it just past the knee, a fancy dress shirt and a tie.

The main difference between the two were the colour.  Harry’s was dark green, with a gray vest and a tie approximately the same shade as his eyes.  Draco’s were a sort of dark, burnt orange, with deep golds.  They looked good next to each other, which made Harry think that wherever they were going, he and Draco were meant to be a set.

As the final measurements and stitching were put in, Mr. Lyons nodded to both of them.  “You know how this works, boys.  I assume you want the same clasps?”

Draco nodded, and within a few moments a tiny golden dragon was pinned to his outer robes, keeping them pinned together at the bottom of the collar, which looked vaguely suit-like.   

On the other hand, Harry spent a moment thinking about it.  Did he want a lily again?  Yes, he did.  But with Narcissa hovering over his shoulder, he felt like he could do one better.  Motioning for Mr. Lyons to come a bit closer, he murmured to the man, while mentally thanking Neville for the tutoring.  “Do you know what a narcissus flower is?”

The little man paused for a moment, before his eyes darted up to look at Narcissa, and then back at Harry, a small smile playing at his lips.  “Indeed I do.  Do you wish for that?”

“C-could you do a lily as well?  Next to each other?”

A nod was his response, as Mr. Lyons studied him.  “You’re a sweet boy, Mr. Potter.  A bit of a softie, if you don’t mind me saying.”  With that he tapped his wand to the metal and had it attach to Harry’s robes. “All done then, Mrs. Malfoy.”

It took a moment for Narcissa to recognize the flower, and she let out a soft hiss of air when she did.  Her demeanor didn’t change, but Harry thought her eyes looked very warm and almost proud.  “Let’s take care of the bill then.”  She said and the two of them disappeared into the back.

“You are a softie.”  Draco put in, glancing at the clasp.

Eyeing him, Harry’s expression was dry. “Talking to me now?”

Looking for all the world like he was doing Harry a giant favour, he nodded.  “I suppose so.”

Harry rolled his eyes, ignoring the knot in his stomach unravelling.  “I still don’t know why you got so irritated.”

“I know.  It made it even more annoying.”

Leaning over to get better access, Harry pushed Draco’s shoulder, enjoying the other boy’s indignant squawk.  “Prat.”

“Idiot.”

Harry figured he could live with that.

~*~

 _Draco,_

 _Word of advice.  Get off your arse and ask him out on a sodding date.  Diggory is straight and I know you know it.  We both caught him last year at the end of year in the loo with that Cho girl.  Harry, however, has moon-eye fantasies about the bloody Hufflepuff.  I suggest you put on your big boy pants and **take him for a drink**!  Now you’re probably staring at this letter moping and whining “oh but Pansy, dearest, how do I know that Harry even likes blokes?” WELL HOW WILL YOU KNOW IF YOU DON’T BLOODY WELL ASK?  Also, maybe it’s the fact he’s gagging over Diggory, but I take that as an indication he likes the male species.  Perhaps he would be following you around with little hearts in his eyes if he knew you were a pouf like him.  So why don’t you stop whinging about it and be proactive like a good Slytherin?  If you act much more like a love-sick Gryffindor I’m going to have to steal Millicent’s bat and turn your pretty little head into a brand new Bludger.  _

 _With love, Pansy.  
PS: Blaise says hi._

Draco scowled down at the letter before tearing it into pieces and tossing it inside his bedroom fireplace.  He stared at the ripped up pieces as the blue flames shot up and ate away the evidence before sitting heavily on his bed.  He stood up a second later and began pacing.  Then sat down again and pulled out a parchment and some ink and a quill.

 _Pansy,_

 _Take your advice and eat it.  How about you mind your own bloody business for once instead of poking that squashed, upturned nose of yours into other people’s private business.  I’ll ask him out when I’m good and ready.  Besides, how do you know this isn’t a passing phase type of thing - Diggory is very easy on the eyes and I’ve seen plenty of red-blooded hetero males eyeing him.  You saw Leopold Marsh from Ravenclaw last year, damn near bowled over his girlfriend for Diggory.  Maybe the Hufflepuff has some sort of love magic attached to him.  Remind me to run rudimentary tests while on the Express.  How dare you call my low, lying, reconnaissance strategy un-Slytherin!  I’m merely gathering intel on my intended target in order to formulate the best course of action._

 _Always yours, Draco._

 _PS: Tell Blaise he’s a traitorous wanker._

Sending off the letter with Titan, Draco closed his window.  He had just changed into his pajamas when there was a knock on his door.  Crossing the room he opened the door and gave a faint smile at the sight of Harry, even if his heart twisted up funnily.  The smaller boy was dressed in loose pajamas with Ananta curled around a large portion of his upper chest and over his shoulders.

“Can we come in?”

“‘Course.”

Harry walked into the room and sat down on the edge of Draco’s bed.  The Malfoys watched him for a long moment before crossing to the bed.  Ananta wound around Harry’s neck, tongue flicking out in a flash of deep blue before the snake hissed something.  Draco couldn’t translate the syllabic “hee-yik ya-saa.” with the small amount of Parseltongue he knew but it made Harry colour a rather flattering shade of pink and hiss something back that sounded like a reprimand.

“What’s he on about?”

“Teasing me.  Nothing important.”

Draco eased down onto the bed and watched as Ananta unwound from Harry and glided over to him.  He picked up the snake and let it coil lazily about his arm.  “You must be excited to show Professor Snape how he’ll help you with potions.”

“Very.  I’m also excited to see how he’ll affect my patronus.”

Draco smiled a little and jutted out his chin as Ananta butted his head lightly against it in a playful, almost loving move.  “You should head to be soon.  We need to be up early.”  

Harry nodded and gently picked up Ananta, giggling when the snake slid shamelessly under the collar of his top and coiled about him.  “He likes it warm.”

“Well, he must get the cuddling from his owner.”

Harry sputtered lightly.  “I do not cuddle.  I leech warmth.”

Draco laughed lightly.  “Snake.”

Harry stood.  “And don’t you forget it.”  Harry made his way to the door and turned slowly to look back at Draco.  “Sleep well.”

Draco smiled a bit and nodded his head.  “You too.”

He watched until Harry was gone before climbing into bed and curled up on his side before finally letting himself fall asleep.


	4. Crushed

The journey to Platform 9 and ¾ was a little strange.  Narcissa continued to act very mysterious about the robes and their upcoming year.  Both she and Lucius seemed aware that something was going to happen, but neither would tell them, insisting that it should be a surprise.  Oddly enough, Lucius said his good-byes to Draco in French, and gave them a look like he had just given them the biggest clue ever.

Once on the train, they looked about for their dorm mates.  As they passed one compartment, a set of hands caught Draco and Harry by the back of their robes and yanked them backwards, causing both boys to let out undignified squeaks.  Pansy started laughing uproariously, and both boys turned to glare at her.

“You couldn’t have, I don’t know, just shouted our names or something?”  Harry grumbled, readjusting the collar of his shirt, which had twisted sideways in the attack.

A snort was his answer.  “What’s the fun in that?”  She asked as she flopped back down next to Blaise, who gave them a wave.

Draco gave a sniff as he sat down across from them, quickly joined by Harry.  “Yes, yes.  You are the quirky riot of the school.  Can we get down to business?”

That caught Pansy’s attention.  “Business, Draco?”

“Mother and Father were acting very peculiar.  Something is going on, Ms. My-Mother-Works-For-The-Daily-Prophet, and if you don’t know what it is, I’ll eat my Potions homework.”

That was a serious oath, and they allowed a moment of silence for it to sink in.  “I do know, of course.”  Pansy told them.  “But, I’m not sure if I should tell you.  It goes against your parents wishes, you know.”

Identical dry looks were shot her way, and Blaise looked between all three with a grin.  “Really, if becoming the height of society doesn’t work out, you lot could always go on tour as a comedy trio.”

“Only if I didn’t kill those two first.”  Pansy told him dryly.  “But if we did, would you be my groupie?”

Smirking, Blaise pressed a kiss to her cheek.  “I would be your number one fan.  I would follow you guys around and charm posters saying half-creepy, half-adorable things.”

“Well, with that kind of incentive, how can I say no?”

A sharp clap brought their attention back to Draco, who looked peevish.  “If you could please focus?”  He drawled.

Sighing, Pansy shook her head at him.  “It’s not that big a deal, honest.  Well, okay, it is a big deal, but Dumbledore will be announcing it to the whole school in a few hours.”

“But then everyone will know!”  Draco pointed out, sounding like a second year.

Harry rolled his eyes at him, which made Draco huff, before turning to Pansy.  “Is there anyway we could make you forget to keep your tongue?”

Something like a half-laugh escaped Pansy.  “We have been an awful influence on you.  I’m so proud.  Normally I’d love to encourage that, but not this time.  I’m enjoying lording this over you too much.”

Eyeing Blaise, Harry asked, “Do you know what’s going on?”

“Nope,” He replied cheerfully.  “Not a clue.  But then, I don’t really care.”  He smiled, the expression both bright and slightly mocking.

Draco glanced at him for a moment before turning back to Pansy.  “Oh, come on.  At least a hint.”

For a moment Pansy looked like she was going to say something flippant, but she caught Draco’s eye and seemed to deflate a bit.  “Oh, alright.  Whiny bastard.  It has to do with other schools.”  Draco opened his mouth, but she held up her hand.  “Ah-ah!  No!  That was my hint.  That is all you’re getting.  Now let’s actually have a conversation.  What have you two been up to?”

Discussing their summers and the aftermath of the World Cup was enough to keep them occupied, especially when Millicent, who had been out of country with her parents and sister during the Cup and thus had missed the excitement, joined them half way through the conversation.

Outside it was pouring horribly, and the five of them huddled as best they could against the driving rain.  Harry thought there was something ominous about the storm, but immediately scolded himself for the thought.  He was going to turn into Trelawney.  A terrifying thought if there ever was one.

Once outside, Harry waved to the huge, dark silhouette of Hagrid, who responded cheerfully enough and advised that he not drown on the way, which was easier said than done.  They made their way, wet and muggy, to the horse-less carriages.  

Harry didn’t think he’d ever looked forward to getting to the feast more.

After arriving they made their way into the Great Hall and watched the Sorting.  It was the same every year, almost, filled with twitching first years with mixed emotions of elation and fear.  Everyone clapped politely as students went to various Houses.  Harry noticed a large portion of them going to Ravenclaw and Slytherin, while there was a lesser portion of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs that year.  He wondered why.  Perhaps things went in cycles.  

As the last student made their way on shaky legs towards the Hufflepuff table, Harry tracked her with his eyes.  He noticed that the usual Defense Against the Dark Arts chair next to Professor Snape was empty.  He pressed his lips together and wondered who was going to teach the class and why they were late.  

“Welcome students new and old.  There are a few things I’d like to announce before we start our dinner.  The first is our new --”

The sound of the doors to the Hall opening broke Dumbledore’s speech and everyone turned to look.  A man, wet from the rain, was walking in.  He looked haggard and was leaning heavily on a walking stick as he moved.  Harry gulped reflexively as he spotted the man.  Whoever he was, he looked intimidating.

“Is that... Moody?”  He heard Blaise ask.

“Mad-Eye Moody, yeah.”  That was Draco’s voice and it was soft, almost nervous.  “He’s barking mad, it’s the reason he’s not an Auror anymore.”

“A what?”  Harry asked, turning to look at Draco.

“They catch Dark wizards and witches.  Almost half the cells in Azkaban are full because of him.  Man’s a genius, if off his rocker.”

“Do you s’pose he’s our new Defense teacher?”  Pansy asked, watching as the man stopped when he reached Dumbledore.  “He looks scary.”

“Some people are going to be angry about this,” Blaise whispered.  “People who’ve lost family thanks to him.”

Harry shivered a bit and tried to casually let his eyes wander about the table to see who looked upset.  Everyone, however, had schooled expressions, and he looked back to where Dumbledore and the man were talking.  The man made his way to the seat next to Snape and lowered himself into it.  That was it.  No introduction.  Harry did notice, however, that Moody’s eye wandered to him and stayed there for a long minute before the man pulled out a flask and took a long pull from it.

“Well, now then.  Aside from the rules which I’m sure you all know by now - no magic in the halls and stay out of the lake and the forest without permission - I have a special announcement for you all.”

Draco sat up straighter, his hands clutching at Harry’s arm in a grip that was almost painful.  “ _Finally_!”

“This year, Hogwarts has been given a most gracious honour.  This year we will be the host school for the newly revived Triwizard Tournament!”

Talking broke out in the Hall and Harry grunted when Draco shook his arm hard.  He had no idea what this thing was, but if people were excited, it had to be big.  Dumbledore held up his hand for quiet and the Hall stilled.

“Now, for those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament, started in 1294, was a most glorious event.  Three schools of magic would gather and compete as well as mingle during the time the Tournament was held.  It was considered a great honour to be a Triwizard champion, and even greater still to win the prize.  However, after the games in 1792, the events were halted due to too many tragic losses of life.  Now, however, with the help of Bartemius Crouch Senior and the Ministry of Magic the Tournament is once again open.  With new rules, of course.  Due to the danger of these events, the Tournament is closed to all those under seventeen years of age --” Dumbledore glared when he was answered with a resounding number of boos.  “There will be age limits put in place to prevent loss of life to all those deemed to be unsuited for the challenge due to lack of proper magical education.  All that aside, during the course of the Tournament, which will be held on school grounds, you are to obey any and all rules put in place to prevent a terrible and painful death and you are to be upstanding representatives of the two other schools attending.  They will be Durmstrang and Bauxbatons.”

More talking broke out and Harry looked to Draco, who was pouting.  “What’s the matter?”

“Seventeen years old, that’s rubbish.”

Harry’s brows rose.  “Well, better you than me competing.  All that attention, no thanks.”

Draco broke a pirogi that appeared on his plate with his fork and took a bite.  “That explains the robes as well.  Mum wanted us to be ready for the Yule Ball, no doubt.”

Harry gave a distracted nod, but didn’t say anything further.  Instead he piled roast beef on his plate and took a bite, mind lost in thought.

~*~

“I feel like I’m going to burst.”

“After those four puddings, I’m not surprised.”

Pansy sent a glare to Draco as they walked to the Common Room and rubbed her aching stomach.  “At least I eat food and don’t graze.”

“I’m not a cow, I merely take smaller portions so I don’t embarrass myself.”

Harry shook his head at the banter before breaking off.  “I’ll catch up with you, I’m just going to see Professor Snape.”

Draco glanced over and nodded before giving a wave as Harry made his way down the corridor towards Snape’s office.  He knocked on the outermost door before walking inside.  No sign of anyone.  He made his way towards the door to Snape’s chambers and knocked lightly.  Snape opened the door and peered down at him.

“Good evening, Mr. Potter.”

“Hullo.  I was wondering if we could talk, unless of course you’re busy...”

Snape stared at him for a long moment before shaking his head.  They stood there for a moment before Snape stepped back and opened the door with a gesture.  Harry gaped for a minute, unable to believe the invitation before stepping inside.  The quarters were not what he expected.  The room looked very homely and less severe than he had expected. There seemed to be no walls, only bookshelves filled with various things as well as books.  A fireplace with a mantle lined with photographs.  An old fashioned record player and three comfortable looking chairs in that were a very deep shade of blue.  

“If you’re quite through with gawking, I do have classes to prepare for.”

“Oh, right.  Well... You see...”  Harry fidgeted in place and watched as Snape sat down before looking to a chair and Harry finally sat down in it.  “I’ve been having these dreams.”  He licked his lips and continued before Snape said anything.  “And in them, there’s Wormtail and... and... _Him_ and another man.  I don’t know the other man, but he’s devoted.  And in the dream there’s a man, an older man, a Muggle, and he finds them and they...”  He rolled his hand before scratching at the back of his neck.  “Y’know.  And when I wake up from it, my scar is hurting.  And I know you were there with the Stone and you saw how my scar hurts with... when I’m around... And so...”

Snape gave a slow nod.  “I see.  And has it occurred to you that these may just be dreams?”

“Yes... but...”  Harry squirmed and rose his shoulders in a shrug.  “I don’t dream about him.  I dream about Quidditch and about classes and about Dra-- but not Voldemort.  Never him.”  Harry played with a loose thread on his robes and looked away.  “I just thought you’d like to be informed.”

“Indeed.  It would also be helpful if I knew this other man.  Perhaps you could try drawing him.”

Harry made an uncomfortable face.  “I’ll try.”

Snape nodded his head and stood.  Harry tracked him as he moved before he watched the man run his finger along the spines of the books on a shelf.  “I must apologize it isn’t wrapped.”  Snape pulled out a book and crossed to Harry, holding the book out with his hand.

“Saves on paper, I don’t mind.”  Harry took the book.  It was worn, the hard cover binding was split in some places and the pages looked well read.  Dog-eared and slightly discoloured.  He had always gotten new books before, so there must have been a reason for this one.  He turned the cover in his hand to read the title.  Nineteen Eighty-Four by someone called George Orwell.  “This is a Muggle book, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you have a book by a Muggle author?”

Harry looked up in time to see an amused twist on Snape’s face.  “You seem to forget, Mr. Potter, that not all Wizards are pure blooded. I lived in the Muggle world until I was seventeen.”

Harry’s brows rose.  “Really?”

Snape hummed bemusedly.  “Really.  I drove a car and everything.”

Harry tried to imagine Snape driving a car.  It was quite a funny thought.  He turned the book back over in his hands before opening the front cover.  There was writing on the hard back of the cover.  He gazed at it for a moment, it was faded but readable, in loopy, small feminine writing.

 _For my dearest, most noble Prince.  I know this book will suit to your tastes far better than mine.  I hope you find it to be a light in the darkness more than I.  You are more Winston running from Big Brother than I care to admit.  Always remember, no matter what they say that love is always, and will always, be love.  Your Lily._

Harry stared at the inscription with a greed and possession that he felt he should have been rude.  His eyes kept tracing over and over his mother’s name, signed in a lazy, almost sloppy scrawl.  It ached something deep within him.  He closed the book slowly and turned his eyes back to Snape, who was watching him with an expression that couldn’t be described.

“Prince?”

“It was my mother’s maiden name.  A nickname your mother gave to me.”

“You two were friends.”

“For a long time, yes.”

Harry’s hands curled over the book and he cradled it in his lap.  “I’ll be sure to take great care of this.”

Snape nodded and turned away from Harry, Harry stared at his back for a moment before standing.  “Goodnight, sir.”

Instead of waiting for a reply, Harry quietly let himself out and headed back to the Common Room, deep in thought.

As soon as he got through the passageway, he was nearly knocked over by the sheer volume of noise, a rarity in the Slytherin dorms.  Everyone was in the Common Room, all talking about the Triwizard Tournament and how much they’d love to participate and or watch.  A group of seventh years were in the middle of it all, playfully declaring themselves to be the Hogwarts Champion.

Draco spotted Harry almost immediately, eyes bright and excited.  His expression quickly sobered when he caught the smaller boy’s far away expression.  It took a few minutes of maneuvering through the crowds to reach each other.  “You okay?  What happened with Professor Snape?”  

Shrugging, Harry hugged _Nineteen Eighty-Four_ to his chest.  “He gave me a birthday present.  It was...”  He swallowed, trying to find the words to explain what the book meant to him.  Draco tried to listen, but it wasn’t a concept he’d ever _want_ Draco to understand.  “Just...”  He swallowed around the emotion clogging his throat.  “I’ll talk later, okay?  You’re job is to join up with Pansy and figure out how everyone is reacting to the news, so we know who to avoid for the next while.  The seventh years are going to be unbearable until they choose the Champion.”

Gray eyes tracked over his face, but he seemed to realize Harry simply couldn’t talk about it, so he nodded.  “Pansy has that covered, really.  Do you want some company?”

Shaking his head, Harry gave a weak smile.  “Thanks, but no.  I’m just going to go to the dorms.”  Draco nodded and his eyes followed him as he made his way up the stairs.

Once in the Forth Year boy’s room, Harry flopped back onto his bed, holding the book up to look at it better.  He flipped it open and re-read the message, tracing his fingers slowly over Lily’s signature.  Her handwriting was so different from his.  Where his was cramped, hers was loopy.  Her letters were big, while his got squished together.  The way they wrote their ‘y’s was the same, though.  His finger ran over that last letter over and over memorizing the feel of it.

Slowly, he put it down on the bedside table, staring up at the drapes over his bed.  He could still hear the noise from downstairs, thought distance and a closed door muffled it quite a bit.  Once or twice he thought he could hear Draco’s superior tone cutting at someone, and the resulting laughter or protests.  A small smile crossed over his face, and his stomach did a peculiar sort of flip before settling down, feeling somehow heavier.

With a groan, Harry twisted so he was on his stomach and clutched at the pillow. He couldn’t keep doing this.  Draco was his _friend_.  It was one thing to like Cedric, who was nice and handsome and above all safe.  He didn’t think there was a chance in hell the Hufflepuff would ever like someone like him, even if he liked boys.  But he would be nice about it, and more importantly it wouldn’t ruin anything.  Cedric would still be the nice, friendly older student.

But Draco...

If Draco found out about his stupid crush, he probably wouldn’t be disgusted by it the way the Dursleys or someone would be, but it would get in the way of their friendship anyway.  Could he look Harry in the eye when he knew that Harry liked him?  Would he keep inviting him home for Christmas?  

Not to mention all the times Harry had spent the night with him.  He’d never meant it that way, but Draco probably wouldn’t see it that way.  He’d think Harry was being a pervert or something. The very idea made him sick to his stomach.

A voice in his head, that sounded suspiciously like Pansy at her worst, pointed out that Draco might feel the same way, but Harry promptly laughed it out of his head.

As if.

Draco was... he was amazing.  He was smart and a surprisingly good listener and funny and fantastic to be around.  He knew what he wanted and he did whatever it took to get it.  And he looked fantastic all the time, just to top things off.

And Harry?

He didn’t think of himself as a freak anymore.  Not really.  But he was... well, he was awkward and clueless and had way too many Gryffindor traits for his own good.  He wasn’t even handsome, or some other consolation prize like that.  

If Draco wanted Harry he would have pursued him a long time ago.  And Harry couldn’t think of a reason the blonde would want to.

So he’d focus on Cedric, who was lovely and nice, and be happy with Draco’s friendship.  He’d stomp down these feelings for the Malfoy heir until they were gone, or at least manageable.  He just hoped he’d be able to do it before Draco started to date.  

Tense and uncomfortable, Harry curled up with his pillow and stared at Draco’s bed until the excitement of the day caught up with him and he was able to drift off.

Due to this, he missed Draco and Blaise coming back up.  He missed Blaise teasing him about his crush.  And he missed Draco’s warm, longing look at Harry’s relaxed face.

~*~

“I can’t believe we’re going to have to share Defense with the ruddy Gryffindors.  Intermagical relations be damned.”

Harry looked over his copy of Nineteen Eighty-Four towards Draco, who was leaned against the tree several branches above him.  “Well, when you consider we’re going to have to make room for the other schools...”

“It’s stupid.”

“Draco stop being dramatic.”  Pansy swung upside down on the branch over Harry’s head, the very tip of her braid threatening to smack him in the face.  “No one likes a queen.”

Harry bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing and turned his focus back towards his book.  He was still trying to figure out why Severus had given it to him.  Aside from being a book given by his mother.  There had to be a reason Severus thought he would like it, or at least find it helpful in some way.

“What are you reading?”

Harry sputtered when Pansy’s braid slapped against his glasses and tugged on it lightly, ignoring her protest.  “A book.”

“But what’s it about?”

Harry didn’t look up as he turned the page.  “Muggle stuff.”

“I bet it’s boring.”

“Not really.”

“Pansy, shut your hole and let Harry read.”  

“Tetchy, tetchy.  Someone didn’t wank enough this morning.”

Harry watched as Pansy dropped out of the tree with a yelp, arms over her face.  Draco smirked down at her and slipped his wand back into his robes.  Harry diverted his eyes back to the page and stared hard at the words.  He needed to think about something other than the idea of Draco doing that.  Anything other than that.

He needed a distraction.  

Thankfully, one came strolling out into the courtyard in the form of Cedric Diggory.  Harry lowered his book slowly and smiled a little.  He had never noticed it before, but the Hufflepuff colours really suited Cedric’s complexion.  He gave a wistful sigh and jolted hard, startled, when Draco dropped out of the tree suddenly and landed next to him.

“What’s he doing here?”

“He is a student.  This is his school too.”

“This is a Slytherin area and everyone knows about it.  What gives him the right to think he can just prance in here unannounced.”

Harry looked over at Draco and pursed his lips.  “Fine.  I’ll go talk to him, Your Highness.”  Before Draco could retort, Harry pushed himself off the ground and walked over to Cedric, who was talking to a Slytherin upperclassman.  Harry turned in place and sent Draco a pointed look as if to say, ‘See, he does have a reason.’  Draco just crossed his arms and scowled.

Harry inched closer.  Cedric and the girl were talking about some sort of Transfiguration spell from what he could gather.  He moved closer still and reached out to tap Cedric on the shoulder.  Cedric turned and smiled at him and Harry felt a little weak-kneed.

“Heya, Harry.  What can I do for you?”

“Draco’s being a bit of a territorial prat right now.  So I’m going to stand over here and pretend to tell you to get lost, if that’s alright with you.”

Cedric gave an easy laugh and looked over Harry’s shoulder towards Draco.  He rose a hand in a wave and Harry turned with the gesture to see Draco make a rude hand gesture and sneer.  Harry kept from rolling his eyes.

“Sorry about him.”

“It’s alright.  I’ll make this quick so he doesn’t give you any grief.”  Cedric’s hand fell on Harry’s arm and squeezed just above his wrist.  “Okay?”

Harry stared at the hand and felt butterflies in his stomach.  “...’kay.”

Cedric opened his mouth to say something but his head whipped around at a guttural cry and Harry moved with him.  They watched as Moody charged out of the near by open corridor and jabbed his wand in Draco’s direction.  The wand Draco had been holding fell to the grass and Draco was gone in an instant, replaced by a white fur ferret which chittered in fear and tried to scramble away.  

Harry felt torn between laughing and crying.   He opened his mouth to object, but couldn’t find the words.  How do you tell a psycho ex-auror to stop transforming his students?  He watched as Moody moved Draco-the-ferret up and down in the air as if he was bouncing.  Professor McGonagall ran out into the courtyard and she and Moody bickered for a moment before Draco was turned back.  He was sprawled out on his stomach looking pallid and sick.  He grabbed for his bag and wand and took off into the school.  Pansy stared for a long moment before darting after him.

After giving Cedric what he hoped was an apologetic look, Harry did the same.

Draco spent the rest of the day quietly fuming and snapping at anyone who tried to speak with him.  Harry couldn’t really blame him - getting turned into a tiny rodent couldn’t be fun, and getting jerked up and down like that would be terrible as a human, much less a ferret.

Eventually he did end up asking Pansy _why_ Moody had jumped on him..

“He was being kind of a brat.”  She told him.  “Waving his hand at Cedric like he wanted to curse him.  It wasn’t like he was actually doing any magic - he wasn’t doing any of the proper wand movements or saying anything.”  Pansy glanced down the table at Draco, who was stabbing into a slab of lamb with a sort of vicious intensity.  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable being taught by that man.”

Unfortunately, they didn’t have much choice.  All too soon they were waiting inside of the Defense Against the Dark Arts room, waiting for Moody to arrive.  The Gryffindors were there as well, though they looked much more excited about it.

Finally, Moody made his way into the classroom, carrying a jar with a few spiders inside.  Harry heard Ron give a choked noise behind him, and grabbed Pansy’s arm before she could whirl around and taunt him about it.  Worryingly, Draco didn’t even try, and Harry shot him a few glances, none of which he returned.  He spent some time introducing himself, and calling out any students who were not paying attention, even when his back was turned.  

Harry decided that eye of his was simultaneously the creepiest and most useful magical object he’d run into so far.

After a few more minutes of what basically amounted to showing off, Moody glared over the gathered students. “Which one of you can tell me about the Unforgivable Curses?”

Instantly, Hermione’s hand was in the air.  “The Unforgivable Curses are three spells that when cast will result in imprisonment in Azkaban.  They are named as such because they are, in fact, unforgivable.”

A grudging nod came from the scared man.  “Now who can tell me about these curses?  Any of them?”  Both of his eyes landed on Draco, who glared back defiantly.

A few hands rose weakly, but Moody ignored them, instead watching Draco.  Finally the blonde jutted out his chin and answered.  “The Imperious Curse.”

“Correct.”  Moody grunted, narrowing his normal eye.  “You would know about that one, wouldn’t you Malfoy?”  Without waiting for a response, he whirled onto the spiders and pulled one out.  He placed it on the table and cast ‘Imperio!’.  The spider immediately stilled.  The man looked up at the students, eyes wild and just slightly gleeful.  “What would you like to see him do?  Maybe you’d like to see him dance?”  With that the spider began doing a deranged sort of tap dance, flailing it’s legs in an almost comical fashion.

A few of the Gryffindors started to giggle nervously, but the stony silence from the Slytherins stopped them cold.  Moody was looking over them challengingly, the light in his eyes still bright and intimidating.  “This this is funny, kids?  Would you like it if this happened to you?  Would it still be _funny_ then?”    
The temperature of the room seemed to drop as the spider rolled into a little ball and started to spin.  “I could make it do anything, you know.   The spider might jump out the window.  It might drown itself.  It might throw itself down your throats.”  A whimper escaped a few of the children, especially Ron, who looked like he wanted to curl up.

“A lot of wizards and witches have claimed to be under the Imperious curse when they got caught.  But here’s the rub - how do we sort out the liars from the victims?”  Again he eyed the Slytherins, many of whom were starting to look as green as their ties.  His eyes spent an extra moment on Draco, whose cool expression flickered but didn’t fall.

Finally, Moody broke off the eye contact.  “The Imperious can be fought, but it’s not an easy thing.  Plenty of people will never get to the point where they can throw it off.  The best way to avoid it is not to get hit in the first place.  CONSTANT VIGILANCE.” The last was shouted so abruptly that most of the class jumped.

He continued to glance over them for a moment, before he finally nodded.  “Alright.  Who else can tell me an Unforgivable?”  No one raised their hands.  “C’mon, now, I know you know.”

Very slowly, a lone hand raised.  Neville barely picked his head up, and said in a very small voice, “Crucio.”

A small noise came from Moody.  “Longbottom, isn’t it?  I imagine you know that one quite well.  Yes, the Cruciatus Curse.”  A few members of the class turned to look at Neville, who refused to meet anyone’s eyes.  Again the man scooped up one of the spiders.  When he put it down, he whipped out his wand and cast ‘Engorgio’.  The spider swelled, and was soon the size of a dinner plate.  Then Moody cast ‘Crucio!’.

Instantly, the spider started the writhe, like it was in huge amounts of pain.  It was jerking around so hard Harry was worried that it’s legs would break. There was no sound at all, except for the heavy breathing of the students, but if it had a voice it would have no doubt been screaming.

The silence was broken by the sound of Neville’s breathing picking up, almost like he was hyperventilating.  His eyes were wide and fixed on the spider, but out of focus, like he was seeing something else entirely.

Instead of breaking off, Moody just jerked his wand towards the creature, and it started to flail even harder, and swayed from side to side, as though it wanted to cast itself off the table-

“Stop it!”  Hermione finally shouted, voice high and shrill.  “Stop it right now!”

Moody jerked his wand away, and the spider gave a few more twitches before going utterly limp, making tiny movements like it was shivering.  He looked over the gathered students, who were watching with varying degrees of horror, and specifically on Neville, who looked like he had shut down at some point and was now staring at his desk.  “Right.”

The professor cast a shrinking charm and placed the unresisting spider back in the jar.  “Pain can drive a person to madness. And Dark Wizards don’t need thumbscrews or knives.  They have this.  This one, like Imperio, was... very popular, once.”

He paused, and then sharpened his gaze.  “Now, who knows the last one?”

Hermione’s hand rose in the air, more hesitant than Harry had ever seen it.  When motion to, she dropped it quickly and shot an apologetic glance at Harry.  “Avada Kedavra.”  She whispered.

The words made many of the students shift uneasily, and Moody nodded, face closed off.  “Yes.  The last and the worst.  The Killing Curse.”

For the final time, Moody pulled out a spider and placed it on the table. It ran in circles, looking rather energetic.  The man raised his wand, and Harry felt a sort of dark chill, like an omen, pass through him.

“ _Avada Kedavra_!”

A jet of green light enveloped the spider, and it simply went limp.  Even from a distance, it was clear it was dead.  Horrified gasps rang out from the class, and Pansy ducked her head down to hide her face against the desk.  Blaise’s hand reached over to pat her back, the other hiding his own gaze.

“Not a nice curse, is it?  Not pretty at all.  There’s no way to block it.  No way of surviving.  Well, that’s not precisely true.  There’s one person in history who has survived it, and he’s sitting right in front of me.”  The eyes focused down on Harry.

Green eyes, so close in colour to the curse was not looking at Moody, but instead still staring at the desk, and that spider.  His gaze was blank and approaching lifeless as he stared past the dead creature.  He’d long had dreams of a flash of green light, and recently he’d heard his mother’s last words, due to the dementors.

He’d thought about his parent’s deaths. Played it over and over in his head.  Took little bits of information and stuck them together like a morbid puzzle.  He knew Wormtail betrayed them.  He knew Voldemort came that Halloween night.  He knew his father tried to hold him off.  He knew his mother offered her life in exchange.

But he’d never known how they died, specifically.

Until now.

Had it been like the spider?  Had they simply crumpled to the floor, dead?  Unmarked, unblemished, their heart simply stopped and eyes empty?

He didn’t realize he was shaking until Draco’s hand settled on his arm.  He could hear Moody’s voice, but it sounded far away, like it was in another room, or maybe another life.  

Slowly, he was able to focus on that warm hand, and the noise of Moody’s voice turned into understandable words.  “-A powerful bit of magic.  All of you could probably point your wands at me and cast it and it would do nothing.  But that’s not why I’m here.  I’m just here to help you defend yourself against it.”

The man was not looking at Harry, despite being practically on top of him, so Harry turned to look at Draco.  The other boy’s gaze was worried, but Harry just shrugged.  His emotions were far away at the moment, like they were covered in a thick fog.  Maybe later he’d freak out, but right now he just felt like he was floating.

Moody finished his lecture, and had the students take notes on the curses.  Somehow, Harry managed to write down every word, thought he didn’t really remember doing so.  Finally they were released, and Harry practically scurried out.  He vaguely noticed Neville doing the same thing.

Some of the students that passed by were talking about the lesson (“Did you see the way it twitched?”  “Just a burst of light, that’s it!”), and Harry swallowed and closed his eyes.  

It was only a moment before Draco and Pansy joined him.  They glanced at Neville, who was being surrounded by Hermione and Ron, still looking blank-eyed and haunted, before turning to Harry.  “You alright?”  Pansy asked, her voice quiet, like she was afraid he would bolt or attack like a frightened animal.

Harry nodded.  “Yeah, for now.”  He swallowed.  “I just... I never knew.  And to see it.”  Shrugging, he glanced away to see Moody go up to Neville and lead him towards his office.  

“You alright, Potter?” The professor asked.  His nod didn’t seem to convince Moody, but he turned away anyway.  “Sorry you had to see that, but you had to know.  You _had to know_ ”

Harry did not think that was particularly comforting.

~*~

It was a little after dinner when Snape walked into the Common Room and over to where Harry had cocooned himself into a small ball.  He had huddled up in one of the chairs by the fire with his Defensive theory book wrapped in a thick duvet with only his head and hands peeking out.  Others had tried to approach him, but he glared them off effectively.  Even Pansy and Draco.  Right now he was clutching the book so tightly his knuckles were white and glaring down at the book as if it could solve all of his problems.  

“A word, if you please, Mr. Potter.”

Harry glanced up at Snape and then away.  “I’m not feeling particularly chatty, Professor.”

“Nor am I.  Come with me.”

Harry blanched but closed the book and stood.  For a moment he debated on leaving the blanket behind, but instead wrapped the dark green duvet even tighter around himself and followed.  He knew no one would dare say anything.  Word of what happened had gone around fast.  They entered Snape’s private quarters and Harry sat heavily in a chair, grimacing when a mug of chai settled into his hands.

The tea was a sign this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.

“I heard about what that so called Professor did today.  It was a imbecilic move, especially in front of young children.”

“I think he was trying to prove a point to the rest of Slytherin House, sir.”  

Snape’s face curled up in a disgusted kind of sneer.  “How very like an Auror.”  He took a long sip of his tea and Harry looked to the floor.  “Pot-- Harry... Do you wish to talk about anything?”

Harry twisted the mug in his hands.  He made a noise in the back of his throat and looked up at Snape and then away again.  “I don’t know.  I don’t really have anyone I can talk to about my nightmares, or about my lack of expertise on things.  Especially when it comes to Dark magic.  Or things like Voldemort and Death Eaters, especially in Slytherin.”

“Yes, but surely you understand why.”

“Of course.  No one wants to air out their dirty laundry.”

Snape made a noise like a snort and Harry looked at him.  Snape looked back.  “That allegory is appropriate, I just found it amusing.”

“You and my mother were friends before.  What caused you to lose contact?”

Snape looked uncomfortable but didn’t look away.  “There were people dabbling in Dark magics.  Especially in Slytherin, trying to show off, hopeful to be picked into the Dark Lord’s elite.  Your mother disapproved but I was enthralled.  I suppose in some ways it was an attempt to... flee from myself, perhaps.  I am unsure.  I started mingling with the worst kind of people and there were some choice words; some of them especially harsh and she washed her hands of me.”

Harry stared into his tea before forcing down a mouthful.  “You were a Death Eater.”

Snape levelled a gaze at Harry, his face blank before he gave a slow nod.  “I was.”  

Harry pinched his lips together and forced a breath out through his nose.  So many people he was close to and trusted had worked for the man who killed his parents.  “That explains the way he spoke to you when we were trying to get the Stone.”  He put his drink aside and folded his hands inside of the blanket that was still wrapped around him.  “Were you there when he decided to kill them?”

Snape made a noise that sounded almost pleading but he didn’t say anything.  He set his own drink aside.  “I was there when...”  He looked unsure of what to do with his hands, and so he picked up his drink again.  “There is a very long story which I will tell you one day, but the short answer is yes.  However, the follow up to that is how quickly I tried to protect you and your parents.  I became a double agent for Dumbledore.”

Harry made a noise that sounded disbelieving and shocked at the same time.  He looked away from Snape.  “Because that’s not a stretch.”

“Your mother was my friend.  My only friend.  And despite the reservations I did and still have about your father, he loved you and was a very brave person.  Such a bloody Gryffindor, through and through.  I never wanted harm to fall on your mother.  I made some poor decisions and I regret them to this day.”

Harry was quiet for a long time.  He watched the fire warming the room and thought on Snape’s words.  “Is that why your patronus is a doe?  So she can protect you?”

“I do not know.  I can honestly tell you that I loved your mother.  You may take that however you wish.  And I miss her terribly.”

Harry nodded slowly and looked back at Snape, who was looking to the mantle.  Harry stood and walked over without permission before bending slightly to look at the frame that had Snape’s gaze.  It was a Muggle photograph, that was one of the things he noticed right away.  He saw his mother in the picture, she was wearing an off the shoulder blouse that was a beige colour and a jean-skirt that was cut above the knees and knee high boots with a chunky heel.  Her hair wasn’t the long red Harry remembered and saw in other pictures, but was sheered in an asymmetrical bob showing wide hooped earrings in her left ear.  She was sidled up alongside a boy Harry could almost instantly recognize as Snape.  He looked younger and happier, it was true, but his features were still well defined.  His hair was long and tied back in a ponytail.  He was wearing wide legged jeans with rips all over them that were tucked into combat boots, a faded Rolling Stones shirt and a leather jacket.  He also had a burning cigarette in his right hand, his left arm wrapped casually around Lily’s waist.  They looked maybe sixteen.

Harry gave a soft laugh.  Not belittling, but amused.  “You look so different.”

“I’m sure you’ll look different when you’re my age.”  

Harry ran his fingers over the frame.  “Where was this taken?”

“A Queen concert.  The first date on their European leg of the Day at the Races tour.  We...”  Snape trailed off and chuckled.  “We went to Hogsmeade like usual and then portkeyed to Stockholm.  It was her birthday present to me.”  His small smile drooped.  “It was one of the last things we ever did together.  Three weeks later we got into the huge fight and... I never spoke to her again.  Actually... We did speak a little over a year later, just before we left school.  She found me in the Library after curfew and took away points and walked me back to the Common Room.”

Harry placed the frame back slowly.  “I’m not her, you know.  And I’m not him.”

“I know.  It took me a while to realize it, but I know that now.”  

Harry nodded slowly and picked up his blanket and draped it back over himself.  “Thanks for this talk, Severus.  I know it may have been a little disjointed, but... I needed it.”

Snape nodded slowly and stood to walk Harry to the door.  Harry nodded to the teacher once more before bundling himself in the blanket and walked out.  Snape watched him before closing and locking his door with a spell.  He walked over to the mantle and picked up the picture before placing it back down again with a sigh.  

He got ready for bed with the lyrics to _You’re My Best Friend_ swirling in his head.


	5. Falling Flat

A few days later, Harry entered the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom with now small amount of trepidation. Pansy and Draco flanked his sides, like bodyguards against Moody. It was ridiculous and kind of useless, but it made him feel better anyway.

As usual, Moody started off with no nonsense, eyeing the class like they were all guilty and he just needed to prove it. And then he told them he would be casting the Imperius Curse on them.

Hermione’s hand shot up, but she didn’t wait to be called on before blurting, “But, sir, that’s illegal!” The professor didn’t even look at her as he started to clear a big space in the front of the room. “To use it on another human being-”

“Dumbledore wants you to know what it feels like, so you have a better chance of fighting it later.” That seemed to satisfying Hermione enough that she wasn’t going to keep protesting, but it made a rock form in Harry’s stomach. Dumbledore gave this man _permission_ to cast Unforgivables? On _students_?

This was still the same man who thought Transfiguration was appropriate punishment for jokingly waving a wand at someone’s back, right? Or had Harry wandered into crazy land?

The professor was still talking. “If you’d like to experience the curse for the first time when someone’ll be trying to do you in, then you don’t have to stay. Go ahead and leave.”

No one left, even though Harry was rather tempted.

Moody beckoned them up one at a time, and cast the spell on each student. Like the spider, it had an almost sick comic value to it. Millicent skipped around the room. Neville did some rather impressive gymnastics. Draco made stupid looking expressions (and came back looking utterly furious and more ruffled than Harry had ever seen him at Hogwarts).

Not a single student, Gryffindor or Slytherin, seemed to have any luck fighting off the curse.

“Potter!” Moody called, gesturing towards the front of the room. “You’re next.”

It took a good amount of effort for Harry to get up and make himself stand in front of the ex-Auror as he raised his wand and pointed it between his green eyes. “Imperio!”

All that worry faded away in an instant. It was a wonderful feeling. Like he was floating along without a care in the world. A vague, happy feeling filled him, like the memory of feeling warm and contented. He relaxed, aware of Moody and the other students, but it felt like they were far away. Unimportant.

A voice, which took a moment to identify as Moody’s, spoke, echoing like he was speaking from the other side of the Great Hall. _Jump on the desk...jump on the desk... __._

 _That seemed like a good idea. Harry turned and bent his knees, preparing to jump._

 __Jump on the desk...__

But that’s silly, another part of him pointed out. Why should he? There was no point.

 _Do it....Jump on the desk_

He really didn’t want to, thanks. The voice of reason was getting more firm. I don’t think I will.

 _Jump, Potter! Jump NOW_

A bright burst of pain made Harry jerk, and he raised his hand to feel the decent sized bump that was making itself known on his forehead. He’d started to jump, and then tried to abort the motion, resulting in his feet coming out from under him and smashing his head into the desk he was supposed to jump on.

“Finally. That’s more like it!” Moody sounded very pleased, which did not make Harry feel better. “Look at that! Potter fought! And he got damn close to beating it, he did. Let’s try that again, Potter. The rest of you, pay attention! Watch his eyes, you can see it there. Very good, Potter. Now... _Imperio_!”

It took four times for Harry to be able to throw the curse off completely. In the mean time, he nearly sprained his ankle trying to both run and not run, and ended up flat on his back after stopping himself mid hop. “Paranoid old bastard.” He grumbled as they walked out of the classroom, nursing his sore back.

“Seems like he thinks we’re always going to be attacked doesn’t he?” Pansy agreed, reaching over to rub at a shoulder. “Do you want to go to Professor Snape for a bruise salve?”

He stretched a bit, then shook his head “Nah. It’s not that bad. Just annoying. The worst part was looking down the business end of his wand.”

Draco shrugged. “At least you know no one can control you that way now.”

“Fair enough.” Harry responded.

~*~

A week later, the entrance hall was buzzing with excitement. Today was the day Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive. In fact, it was just shy of 6, and all the Heads of Houses were directing them into lines by years. For their parts, the students were doing their best to utterly destroy any semblance of order, as they squirmed and twisted to speak with their friends.

Luckily, Harry, Pansy and Draco ended up together in the mob of Slytherins. “How do you think they’ll show up?” Harry asked them, eyeing the path to the front gates.

“Something ridiculous and showy, I’m sure.” Pansy huffed, but under that she sounded terribly envious. Harry grinned at her and she slapped his arm in response.

Draco twisted so that the flailing arms of a Fifth Year avoided hitting him in the head. “I doubt they’ll use the train or anything like that. It would be very plebeian of them. Same for brooms, though I would put money on flying.”

Snorting, Harry rolled his eyes. “Safe bet. How else are they supposed to get here otherwise?” Draco ignored him, focusing on looking very dignified.

It was starting to get dark, and the chill of autumn was making itself known. Harry tucked his arms into the pockets of his robes and wished the other schools would hurry up. It was all well and good to make a impressive entrance, but if they froze to death before hand it wasn’t going to have a very big impact.

From the back row, with the rest of the teachers, Dumbledore suddenly called out, “Unless I am mistaken, Beauxbatons is approaching.”

Whispers broke out, and the lines were again ruined as everyone twisted around, trying to spot whatever the Headmaster had noticed. Finally, a Hufflepuff sixth year shouted out “There!” and pointed over the forest.

A huge...something.... was flying towards them at a high speed. Several students screamed, each shouting out some ridiculous theory about what it was. It turned out to be a gigantic black carriage, complete with flying horses the size of elephants. Harry was reminded of Cinderella, and made a note to ask Draco and Pansy about the story later.

It landed with a huge crash, which sent a few of the Hogwarts students to the ground. Now they could see the fiery eyes of the horses, and the golden logo on the carriage door.

A boy in blue robes hopped out and opened the door, and out came a huge woman. She was large in the same way Hagrid was. Proportioned normally, just three times larger.

Well, that explained why everything was so big.

After her came a small stream of boys and girls, wearing robes that looked to be of high quality. Many of them were wearing shawls and scarves. Most looked apprehensive, which made Harry feel much better.

A round of applause, starting from the Headmaster, broke out from the Hogwarts students and staff, and she and Dumbledore exchanged warm greetings. After a few minutes of that, and instructions on the horses (which only drank single-malt whiskey. Was that even healthy?), she and her students made a part through those from Hogwarts and made their way into the castle.

“Told you,” Draco said, looking smug. Harry rolled his eyes again, but patted him on the shoulder.

“Good boy.” That made Draco deflate quickly, and he glared at Harry before stuffing his nose into the air.

Whispers again broke out, the students in awe over the entrance and now even more curious about Durmstrang. Most people were watching the sky with excitement.

Turns out that was wrong.

“The lake!” Someone from Gryffindor shouted out, and everyone turned to stare as the surface started to ripple. Slowly, a long piece of wood started to rise out of the water. It grew longer, and became thicker the higher it rose. Somewhere behind them, Harry heard Millicent make a dirty joke.

After a few seconds, Harry realized what it was. “A mast!” He hissed at Pansy and Draco. Sure enough, a sail started to appear, and then the rest. It looked skeletal, and gave the feeling of being haunted. Come to think of it, that might well be the case.

A great splash rang out as the anchor dropped, and then a huge plank of wood extended from the deck to the banks. Lines of people, all of whom reminded Harry of Crabbe and Goyle in build, came down. In front was a man who looked the opposite of them - all thin reedy lines, very slim and all of him decked in silver.

Like Madam Maxime, this man - Highmaster Karkaroff - exchanged hellos with Dumbledore, though his felt someone forced and dark, like the exchanges from the Boxing Day Party.

“We really do need to get in, Dumbledore, if you don’t mind. Viktor here has a bit of a head cold, and we don’t want anything to hurt our chances! Come along, Viktor.”

Whispers again broke out, as the students recognized who Viktor referred to. Harry could hear Ron yelp, “It’s _Krum_!” All the way on the opposite side of the line.

Slowly, the Hogwarts students were directed back inside. The Slytherin table was huge, and the Durmstrang students seemed to be settling in there. Beauxbatons, on the other hand, had made itself at home at the Ravenclaw table. Harry wondered if there was a reason for that, or if those two tables just happened to be the ones made larger.

Dumbledore was standing at the front of the hall next to a large, covered object. He introduced a man from the Ministry of Magic, Crouch Senior, who revealed to them the prize of winning; which was a thousand galleons and eternal glory. Dumbledore revealed the shrouded mass beside him, it was a large stone goblet on a pedestal spitting blue flames. Dumbledore also indicated a smoky grey line hovering about half of a foot off the floor surrounding the pedestal and told them that it was an age line, preventing all of those under 17 from entering.

“Now, to enter a student need only write their name on a bit of parchment and enter it into the flame. In one week’s time the names will be drawn and the Tournament will truly begin!”

Excited chattering broke out as dinner started and Harry took a bite of his pot pie.

Draco elbowed him lightly. “D’you think there’s a way to beat it. The age line, I mean.”

Harry shrugged. “I reckon there’ll be some really complicated dark magical way, or a way around it, but I don’t care. I don’t want to be in some stupid Tournament for fame.”

Draco pouted at him. “Ickle Harry hates being famous?”

Harry nearly jabbed Draco in the eye with his fork, growling. “You can have all my fame and glory if you’d like.”

“Well, maybe I’ll take it.”

“Maybe you should!”

Draco shot Harry a look before sticking out his tongue and looked over at Pansy who was throwing pieces of her roll at Blaise’s head. “What’s your problem?”

“Blaise is making cow eyes at that French girl.”

Harry leaned across the table to look at the Ravenclaw table. “Which one?” The all looked pretty much the same to him. In their powder blue uniforms with those funny little hats. A few Ravenclaw boys were sliding closer and closer to one girl. “That one there? With the blonde hair who looks like a supermodel?”

“She’s perfect.”

Pansy smacked Blaise lightly on the face, making him look away. He blinked and looked at her. “What’d I do?”

“She looks like a what?” Draco asked, pushing up from his chair to look in her direction. She looked alright, he guessed.

“They’re very famous people who wear fashionable clothing in magazines.”

Draco made a noise with his nose and took a bite of his pork. “She’s alright.”

“Alright? _Alright_?! She’s like...” Blaise made a motion with his hand. “She’s like a nymph. A beautiful, flawless woodland nymph frolicking through the forest and -- OW.”

Pansy’s hand clamped down on Blaise’s ear and twisted hard as her eyes glared towards the Ravenclaw table. Her face was stony and her eyes were dark. “She’s _what_?”

Blaise was making soft whimpering noises and trying to pull his head away from Pansy’s grip. He yelped when he was shook by his ear and gave a few wheezy breaths. “No where near as perfect as you.”

Pansy released Blaise and he jerked back and brought a hand up to rub at his ear. He eyed his girlfriend for a long moment before dutifully beginning to eat his food without so much as a glance towards Ravenclaw’s table. Pansy cooed and pet his hair before laying her head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t he perfect?”

Harry and Draco traded looks that clearly questioned Pansy’s sanity but neither of them said anything against her for fear of their ears being wrenched from their skulls. Harry took a few bites of his steamed vegetables and looked back over at the table. Then he looked to Draco, who was buttering his roll. Then he looked at the mysterious French girl again.

Why hadn’t Draco acted like Blaise?

~*~

Three days later found them in the Great Hall during their free period watching people throw in their names. A few people underage had already tried, to hilariously disastrous results. The previous night before dinner Krum had entered his name into the flame along with a few other students. Harry watched over the top of his book as the pretty girl from Beauxbatons made her way through the age line and threw in her bit of parchment to a smattering round of applause.

“C’mon, Cedric!”

Harry heard more than saw Draco stiffen next to him, due the sound of the newspaper in his hand crinkling. Harry did his best to ignore it and he watched as Cedric was pushed towards the goblet by a group of Hufflepuffs. He lowered his book. Was Cedric old enough to compete? He was only a sixth year, so he likely had a early birthday...

“Yeah, Cedric, c’mon!”

Cedric turned round to face his friends before backing through the age line casually with a slow and easy smirk. Harry shivered a little and bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from making an embarrassing noise. Cedric dropped his name in and the blue flames lapped at the parchment and it disappeared.

Harry clapped politely when the others did and gave a thumbs-up gesture to Cedric when he looked his way. Cedric smiled again and ran his fingers through his hair. Harry squirmed minutely and mouthed “good luck”. He was gone in under a minute and Harry stared at the goblet for a long moment before opening his book again.

A new burst of noise made him look back up, and he saw Fred and George Weasley, along with their friend Lee Jordan, were rousing the crowd that was forming around them. “We’ve done it!” Said one of the twins, who Harry thought might be Fred. “Just done it right now!”

“Done what?” Ron asked, looking warily at his brothers.

Fred snorted at him. “Taken the Aging Potion, of course.” Harry was impressed. Aging Potion was a NEWT level brew. He wondered how they were doing in Severus’ class, but quickly tossed the thought away. No doubt they’d forgone good grades in the name of mischief making.

On his other side, George looked just as pleased. “Just one drop each, you know. Just enough to make us a few months older.” He grinned at the crowd, who made appropriate noises of approval at the clever idea.

From her spot next to Ron, Hermione looked up from her own book, looking highly disapproving. “It’s not going to work. That was put there by Dumbledore himself.”

She was ignored by the pranksters and other students alike.

Shoving his hand into his pocket, Fred pulled out a piece of paper and waved it around at the other students. _Fred Weasley - Hogwarts_ it read. He then walked over to the line and paused dramatically, like he was about to dive into certain danger.

And then he jumped forward. Nothing happened.

The crowd went wild, and George gave a howl of triumph and followed him past the line. Apparently, the Goblet had been enchanted to wait for the most ironic time to strike, because just then a hissing noise started. Then the twins were catapulted backward. When they landed, they had long white beards.

Defeat had no lasting effect on the two, and they were quickly joking about the new additions. A rumbling chuckle came from Dumbeldore, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, as well as a mild admonishment. This, predictably, did not phase Fred and George in the least.

A few more students submitted, such as one of the Gryffindor chasers, and the group of Beauxbatons, before the students slowly began to trickle out.

As they left, Draco and Pansy started to discuss the Slytherin Seventh Years they’d like to see represent the school. Harry kept his mouth shut, not sure that if he tried to speak he’d be able to talk about anyone but Cedric. If anyone should be the Champion, Harry thought it should be him. He looked like a knight in shining armor already, after all.

~*~

A few days later, the Great Hall was lit by even more candles than normal. The Goblet was now right in front of Dumbledore’s spot at the professor’s table. The entire room was crackling with excitement, as each group of students, sorted by house, school and loyalties, bet on who would become their Champion. Krum was already being congratulated by a few members of Durmstrang, and over at the Ravenclaw table a few of the members of Beauxbatons seemed like they were getting into a rather catty argument.

The feast itself seemed to drag on forever. It was a strange thought, but Harry was now so used to such extravagance that he was actually kind of irritated by it all. He didn’t seem to be the only one feeling that way, judging by the way people’s necks kept craning towards the Goblet, waiting for something to happen.

Finally, the plates disappeared. All the noise of the room died almost at once, and everyone swivelled to look at Dumbledore, who seemed to be taking his time in getting up and addressing them. “The Goblet of Fire looks nearly ready. If I may venture a guess, I would say it requires another minute. Now, when the Champions names are called, they are to come down to the front of the Hall here, and go into the next room.” Here he motioned towards the door to the side of them, where Harry had been only once before, while waiting to be Sorted. “From there you will be given further instructions.”

With a wave of his wand, the Headmaster put out most of the candles in the room, leaving the Goblet as the main source of lighting. The room’s atmosphere became so tense that Harry felt like he was drowning, and like the others he leaned forward a bit, waiting for something. Anything.

The flames from the Goblet turned red all at once. Sparks flew from it, like someone had thrown a box of sprinklers into it. Suddenly, a great tongue of flame shot out and a charred piece of parchment flew out, before gently floating towards the Headmaster, who caught it in a deft, wrinkled hand.

The entire room held it’s breath.

“The Champion for Durmstrang will be...” Here Dumbledore paused, like he was reading the note. Considering that it had all of three words, Harry thought he was just being dramatic. “Viktor Krum!”

Applause broke out, just as much from the other schools as from Krum’s. Karkaroff yelled his approval so loudly is was clearly audible, even over the thunderous clapping.

The boy slunk out of his seat, managing to look both uncaring and pleased at the same time, and followed the instructions, disappearing out the door.

As the clapping died out, the Goblet started to spark again, and silence suddenly fell over the Hall again. The paper again floated to Dumbeldore. “The champion for Baeuxbatons is Fleur Delacour!”

The supermodel-looking girl from earlier - who Harry now knew was a veela, which had calmed Pansy somewhat - rose, looking dignified and graceful. She swept down between the tables to the sound of applause, though not as thunderous as it had been for the celebrity before her. The clapping seemed to be coming from more males than females, Harry noted. A couple of the girls from her school had burst out crying, but the sounds were lost in the enthusiasm.

Suddenly, everyone cut off again. The tension seemed to mount to new levels as the students of Hogwarts waited for that last burst of flame.

Finally, it turned red again, and one more piece of paper jumped up and made it’s way towards Dumbeldore.

“The Hogwarts Champion is Cedric Diggory!”

An explosion of joy came from the Hufflepuff table, and a broadly grinning Cedric was barely able to get through the crowd due to all the badgers trying to pat his back or shake his hand. Harry beamed his way, clapping just as enthusiastically as any of his housemates. Beside him, Draco started to scowl. Harry ignored him, not wanting to deal with that at the moment. Cedric was _the Champion_!

Dumbledore waited for the last of the applause to die down. “Excellent! We now have our three champions. I hope I can count on all of the students here to support your Champions with all the enthusiasm you can. I assure you, this can make all the dif-”

The Goblet started spitting sparks again. Another tongue of flame burst out, this was carrying another piece of parchment. A sort of echoing hiss rang through the entire Hall as every student drew in a shocked breath.

On reflex more than anything, it seemed, Dumbledore reached out and snatched the bit of paper. He read it, eyes wide behind his glasses. Then, he cleared is throat and spoke.

“ _Harry Potter_.”

At first, there was silence. Then, slowly, whispered phrases started to spring up around the room.

“What?”

“But he’s a kid!”

“How did he get passed the Goblet!”

“No way Hogwarts can have two champions! It’s not fair!”

“Cheating Slytherin!”

Harry shook his head, glancing at Pansy and Draco, who were staring at him in shock. “I-I didn’t... but...”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape jump to his feet, looking paler than normal. Dumbledore had put down the parchment, and was now nodding towards him. “Harry Potter! If you could please come up here.”

As thought in a fog, Harry got up and made his way over to the table. The walk felt ten times longer than normal, as the voices of the angry, shocked students became louder, but still subdued enough that he could hear each one individually. With a motion, Dumbeldore directed Harry towards the side.

None of the teachers did more than stare at him as he passed. Even Snape, who Harry peered frantically at, didn’t acknowledge him, too busy shooting dark glances towards the Headmaster and the Goblet.

Finally, Harry made his way through the door. When it closed behind him, the felt somehow like the thud was the sound of his life falling to pieces around him.

Inside the room Fleur and Krum were arguing in a corner and barely even looked over when the door closed. However, Cedric did and his brows rose. Harry opened his mouth to say something but the words died in his throat. He felt sick. He didn’t want this! He just wanted to be left alone and ignored. He took a breath but it got stuck and he felt like he was trapped. He tugged on his tie, desperate to loosen it and he closed his eyes. He had to breathe.

He felt hands guide him to a seat and he sat down slowly and looked at Cedric who offered him a smile and a glass of water. Harry took the water but didn’t drink it. Instead he stared into it.

“What happened?”

“I dunno. There was... Something... and then the Goblet had my name and...”

Cedric gave a glum if slightly confused nod and looked over as Professor Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, Madame Maxine and Karkaroff burst into the room. They were all talking amongst themselves and Harry looked back down at his shoes and twisted the glass in his hands.

“Mr. Potter....”

Harry looked up at Snape slowly, terrified of seeing anger and rejection. It had nearly broken him last year. He didn’t think he would be able to handle it again. Instead he saw worry and something unrecognizable. He tried to smile but it fell into more of a grimace.

“Harry,” Dumbledore’s voice drew his attention from Snape and Harry looked to the Headmaster. “Did you ask one of the older students to put your name into the Goblet?”

“No, sir.”

“Did you manage to put your name in some how?”

Harry shook his head. “Nuh-uh.”

“‘ee’s lying!”

Snape sent a withering glare towards the Beauxbatons Headmistress and pressed his mouth into a tight line before looking to Harry. “Headmaster, I think it best if we discuss this elsewhere and let Harry gather his bearings.”

Dumbledore’s mouth moved into a frown and he nodded his head. “Very well. I will contact you in the morning to see if we can break the binding magic that your name being chosen invoked.”

Harry felt his face drain of colour. He had no way of backing out? He _had_ to do this? But he had three years less experience! How was that fair?

“Go to your dormitories, everyone. You will receive further instruction tomorrow after lunch.”

Everyone stood and Harry made his way out of the side door that fed into the hallway feeling as if he weighed ten thousand pounds.


	6. Rita the Bard

“How’d you do it then?”

“I told you, I didn’t enter my name into the stupid Tournament!”

Draco’s face was disbelieving and Harry glared at him as he threw off his shoes in an attempt for bed. They had been fighting for the past three hours and Harry’s headache was rapidly getting from completely unbearable to blinding.

“You could have at least offered to put my name in too!”

“Well if you want the fame so much we’ll talk to Dumbledore in the morning and you can gladly take my place! You of all people should know that I hate being looked at. That I despise being noticed. That more than anything I want to sink into the background and be _just Harry_! You’d think it would have sunk into that squishy brain of yours by now!”

“And take away your precious time from that Hufflepuff and listen to you prattle on about him even more?! I don’t think so!”

“So that’s what this is about! You’re angry I like a boy!”

“That isn’t even the point! I don’t care if you want to go shagging anyone you want. I’m just saying that not only is he the enemy and you’re opposition, he’s the true Hogwarts Champion, as much as I hate to admit it.”

Harry reeled back as if he’d been slapped and stared at Draco with disbelief. “Wow. All of a sudden people look at me and not you and this is how you act. I....” Harry grabbed his pajamas and balled them up. “I thought we were friends.”

“Yeah, well... Friends _share_.”

Harry shook his head and bit his lip. He had done everything he could to try and appease Draco and none of it was working. “You know what, Malfoy? Piss off.” With that he turned on his heel and stomped his way to the showers.

Draco stared at Harry’s bed and felt everything inside of him twist and break. He dropped onto his bed and spelled the curtains closed and silent. He rolled onto his side and then onto his stomach and pulled the covers over his head. Why couldn’t he just tell Harry the truth?

~*~

“I’m sorry, Harry, there’s nothing we can do about the Tournament.” Dumbledore’s voice was sad and resigned. “The rules and magic are clear. You are a Champion.”

“Then I’m dead.” Harry groaned and buried his head in his hands. “I can’t do half the spells that the others can.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Mr. Potter,” Snape drawled. Harry wondered how it was possible such a sarcastic tone could be so comforting. “Do not think that the Headmaster nor I would let you go in unprepared. Along with our sessions on Saturday we will also meet on Tuesdays. During these times instead of focusing on advanced potions, I will run through more advanced Defensive and Charms magic with you. While I am unable to give you notice of the tasks ahead of time, I can give you an arsenal to protect yourself.”

Harry nodded slowly and gave a wan smile. “Thank you.”

Dumbledore nodded his head again. “Thank you, Harry, now why don’t you go down to breakfast with your friends.”

Harry stood, knowing he was dismissed and made his way towards the Great Hall for breakfast.

He later wished he hadn’t.

Upon entering the Hall, his first instinct was to go sit next to Draco. He was nearly there when the blonde whirled around to scowl at him. Harry’s heart took residence somewhere in his stomach and he looked away quickly.

Because Pansy was across from Draco (and looking a mix of confused and angry), Harry got a spot in between Blaise and Millicent. Both seemed vaguely irritated with the fight, and spent the lunch period trying to talk about anything else. After a while, Harry realized they’d also been trying to distract him.

It didn’t really work, but he appreciated the gesture.

To make matters worse, the entire room seemed to have eyes just for Harry. The whispering ranged from wondering how he’d managed to trick the age line to accusing him of stealing the spotlight because he couldn’t stand anyone else getting the status of hero.

The one bright spot was the knowledge that Slytherin house was not using this as an excuse to torment him. Well, some of the older students were giving him disapproving looks, but most of the time it wasn’t in public. The general consensus seemed to be that acting like a united front was the best idea.

It didn’t take long for the food to become tasteless to Harry, and he jumped up, ignoring the glances his way. He made his way out the door and decided to head where for a place that he could be reasonably certain would not have any people.

To the Owlrey it was.

Once there, Harry scribbled a quick note to Sirius. If nothing else, the man might have a hint as to who or how they managed to get his name into that damn Goblet. After all, he was a Black. Normally he’d ask Narcissa, but...

That was probably out of the question right now.

He wondered what he was going to do about Christmas this year, if he and Draco didn’t stop fighting.

His stomach churning, Harry made his way through the classes. Herbology was strained, as Professor Sprout seemed distant and cool towards him. Care of Magical Creatures was also strange, as the Gryffindors seemed more convinced than they had in years that Slytherins were no good sneaks. Hagrid talked to him during class, and he seemed only worried, thank Merlin. Ron, Hermione and Neville looked like they weren’t really sure how to deal with him, but neither did they ignore or insult him.

Which was more than he could say for Draco, who refused to even look at him. Not that Harry was really trying at this point. Not only was he angry at the other boy, because _how could he think that?_ , but every time Pansy’s attempts to get the blonde to talk to him failed, it felt like someone cut a jagged line across his chest.

And then the badges started to pop up.

 _Support Cedric Diggory!_ They declared. _The REAL Hogwarts Champion!_

After a press of the fingers, they said more.

 _Potter Stinks!_

Which was so mature. Really, it was.

Harry hadn’t caught Cedric wearing one yet, though the rest of Hufflepuff seemed to delight in flashing them his way. He thought that if he did see one pinned to the older boy’s chest, it might be the last straw. And it wouldn’t be pretty.

Potions was a welcome reprieve, at this point. He partnered with Blaise, who was at least competent, if not up to Draco’s normal levels. Here he could just focus on brewing, and not on the fighting, or the badges, or the glances and whispers everywhere he went.

It also helped that Professor Snape was acting almost protective of him. One of the girls from Gryffindor - the one with the colour name - had a badge sticking out of the top of her bag, and the man had forwentyelling at Neville (who, despite Harry’s tutoring, still got nervous enough to make rash mistakes, and thus had caused his cauldron to bubble over) to tear into the girl’s slightly off potion.

So of course it wouldn’t last.

A knock came from the door, and a Gryffindor (the one with the camera who had been petrified in Second Year) peeked his head in, looking nervous.

“S-sir, I’m supposed to take Harry Potter upstairs.”

From somewhere to Harry’s right, he heard Pansy hiss out a soft curse and the sound of frantic scribbling.

Snape did not look impressed by the boy. “Mr. Potter still has an hour left of class.”

To the boy’s credit, he didn’t back down. “Sir, Mr. Bagman wants him. All the Champions have to go. Something about photographs...”

Dark eyes darted to Harry, who gulped but straightened his spine. This was not going to be fun, but he’d certainly survived worse. And he’d get to talk to Cedric and see where the other boy stood.

“Very well. You can finish your antidote with me later.” Harry nodded at him and grabbed his bag, mentally playing a funeral dirge in his head.

As he passed Pansy, a folded piece of paper slipped into his hand, and she whispered, “Good luck.”

He slipped out and ignored the younger boy’s excitable chatter (typical Gryffindor, thought risking his life for a stupid trophy and prize sounded _fantastic and amazing_ ) and read the note.

 _Rita Skeeter is an animagus. Her form is a beetle. It looks like it’s wearing glasses. Hopefully you will not need this information._

An image of the creature that was Draco’s boggart flashed through his head, and suddenly it made much more sense. He balled the paper up and stuck it into the bottom of his bag. Then he entered the small, unused classroom where the Champions and officials waited.

Harry entered the room with a large amount of trepidation and froze when all eyes turned to him. He rose a hand weakly, feeling green. A woman was standing off to the side, and though she wasn’t wearing the eggplant robes Draco’s boggart had been wearing, she was wearing some equally ghastly fuchsia ensemble. Her hair was blonde, not in a natural way, but in a way that looked quite radioactive. Beside her was a long roll of parchment and an acid green quill that was vibrating as she wandered about the Champions.

It was no hard guess that this was Rita Skeeter.

The other three Champions were already in place Fleur was sitting in a high-backed chair, posing daintily. Cedric was to her right, leaning against the chair, one arm was bent over the back of the chair, while the other hung loose at his side; he looked so calm and cool and casual. To her left was Krum, standing at attention and looking distant and stoic. Harry stared at them for a minute, wondering where on Earth they were going to put him. He wasn’t tall enough to be behind the chair unless they put him on a stool and standing beside Cedric or Krum would throw off the whole dynamic...

“Ah, Mr. Potter. You made it, my boy! Wonderful, wonderful!”

Harry looked at the man with the booming voice and recognized him from the Cup. Bagman. He nodded his head in greeting and let his eyes wander to the group again. Slowly the photographer from the _Prophet_ realized the problem as well and frowned deeply. He encircled the group and flicked a tape measure about. For a moment Harry was worried they would make Fleur stand and make him take the centre of the photograph but instead he was guided in front of Fleur and onto the floor on top of a rather soft cushion.

Well this was primary all over again. _Short people in a row along the front_ a voice in his head mocked and he pushed it away with a scowl.

He officially hated this Tournament.

Still he relaxed his posture and brought up one knee to rest his folded arms on. At least he would be comfortable and not look like the back end of a horse.

Several flashes went off and then they were moved. Each one getting an individual photo in the chair Fleur had occupied. Everyone posed pretty much in the same manner as they had in the group shot. Fleur was dainty, Krum was rigid, while Cedric was very devil-may-care. Harry never thought he had seen something so enticing and scandalous as Cedric splayed over the chair, one leg over the arm of it in a poised nonchalance. And Harry? Harry just looked sort of awkward. He was straight backed in the chair but he was pretty sure his face made him look like he was about to be sick on himself or something to that effect.

Following that, they brought in Mr. Ollivander, who inspected all of the Champions’ wands. He spent an long time on Harry’s, and his eyes showed that he was remembering the significance of the feather inside of it.

Harry had rather been trying to forget that.

After they finished up Harry slid his bag over his shoulder. Full and well intending to go back to class when a small hand with a strong grip on his shoulder stopped him. He turned at looked up at Rita Skeeter’s beaming face and tried not to cringe.

“Um... Hello?”

Her smile turned almost predatory. “Well now, Mr. Potter. My readers want the news, come along and we’ll get you nice and cozy and you can tell everyone how you feel about _everything_.”

Before Harry could reply he was being dragged by the strap of his bag out of the room and into a broom cupboard. He sneezed a little at the plume of dust that rose and blinked through the dimness towards Skeeter.

“Lovely. Nice and cozy.”

Harry merely balked while he stared at her. He crossed his arms and sat on an overturned mop bucket and said nothing. He wasn’t giving the vicious lying nag anything to go on. She just peered down at him and blinked and smiled again.

“Well.. You must be feeling nervous considering --”

“-- I am, yeah, trapped in here with you.”

“-- that you are three years younger than the youngest contestant and therefore highly unqualified to be in this Tournament. However, I’m here to get to the heart of things, so to speak. How do you, a young boy of twelve --” She ignored Harry’s snort. “-- think your parents would react to this? To you carelessly throwing your life away. Moreover, what would your parents, the shining beacons of Gryffindor-hood that they were, think of you being in _Slytherin_?”

Harry just stared at her, mouth pinched in a thin line. He wasn’t going to let her win. He watched as her quill, which practically glowed in the darkness of the room, scratched away at the parchment. He frowned at it a little. Her nonsensical questions and Harry’s snide comments or non-answers went on for just under an hour until she let him out of the cupboard.

Harry snatched the floating parchment by her head and ignored her squawk as he flicked his wand at her with a mutter and she flailed her arms, trying to stay up as her legs snapped together.

“Mr. Potter, this is most undignified, assaulting a member of the press--”

Harry peered over at her when the gag forced it’s way into her mouth and smiled at her. “Shhh, I’m reading.” He turned his eyes back to the parchment before skimming the notes. He scowled down at the parchment, which described him as crying through most of the interview, too distraught to talk, and sobbing about how he was so scared and wished his parents were there. He did not _cry_! He had learned long ago that tears did nothing and aside from the one incident with Narcissa, he was not a crying type of person.

Harry took firm hold of the parchment and ripped it in half, ignoring the muffled shriek from Skeeter before he ripped it again and again and then banished it in a quick flash of flame and levelled his eyes on her. “You will not publish lying filth about me, is that clear? Am I _understood_? If you so much as say a bad word against me or publish any kind of biased information towards this Tournament I will get you fired so fast you’ll be spinning.” He gave her a flash of a smile. “So what you’re going to say is that I declined your offer for an interview. Alright?”

She glowered at him but gave a jerky nod. Despite that, there was a gleam of calculation in her eyes, and Harry sighed and leaned back.

He then proceeded to describe her Animagus form. In great detail.

She was a lot more sincere after that.

Harry turned on his heel and marched down the hall without so much as a backward glance as he cancelled his jinxes and heard her fall to the floor with a very satisfying yelp.

He had to get to Divination.

What he needed right now was the mind-numbing nonsense that was Professor Trelawney.

~*~

The stress of the past week, combined with the heavy air of the Divination classroom meant Harry picked up even less from Trelawney’s ravings than normal. He sat at a table with Blaise, who was being very careful with his words.

Honestly, the best part was that neither Pansy nor Draco were there to remind him of the rift in his life. As mean as it sounded.

“So, how was the photo taking?” Blaise finally asked, as they were set free to discuss their most recent dream with one another.

Shrugging, Harry poked at a stain on their table. “Better than it could have been. It took forever to take a stupid picture for the _Daily Prophet_ , but then I got into a row with Skeeter, which helped.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “So Skeeter was here? Good for you, I guess. I’d be careful, though. She’s a nasty piece of work. Give her one chance and she’ll make your life hell. I have no idea why people still listen to her, when it’s obviously a pack of lies.”

A smirk crossed Harry’s face. “I don’t think she’ll risk it.”

“Pansy told you about her beetle form, then?”

Not surprised that the boy knew that, Harry just let his smirk grow wider. “Yup.”

Leaning back in his chair, Blaise looked a bit past Harry towards the covered windows, his smile just the slightest bit dreamy. “She’s vicious, isn’t she?”

Those two really did deserve each other.

Eventually, the other boy came back to himself. “So, what else?”

Giving another shrug, Harry glanced at Trelawney as she passed by them, before continuing. “Not much. The brought in Ollivander to check on everyone’s wands to make sure they were in working order. And Krum and Fleur kept acting like being around other people made them uncomfortable. You would think they’d both be better about dealing with attention, being a celebrity and a veela.”

Blaise eyed him. “Yeah, just like how you’re so good about dealing with attention.” Harry blushed and pretended like he hadn’t heard that. “What about Diggory.”

Warmth rose up in Harry’s cheeks. He looked away, trying to avoid letting Blaise see it, but had the distinct impression he’d failed. “He just sort of stood around, you know? Looked very calm, like it was all no big deal.”

A noise like a cut off chuckle came from Blaise, and Harry turned to look at him. The boy’s eyes were shining with mirth. “You’re adorable. With your little crush, and the blushing...” He made that half-chuckle again.

Going from red to pale in record time, Harry stared at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh please,” Blaise said., “You go mushy whenever someone so much as mentions Diggory.”

Panic clawed at Harry’s chest, and he jerked backward, nearly falling out of his seat. “I- I....” He trailed off, not sure what it say.

He got a strange look from Blaise for his reaction. “What are you doing? It’s not li- Oh.” Blaise’s gaze became considering, and then something close to sympathetic. “Right, you were raised by Muggles, weren’t you? I forget you aren’t actually an official Malfoy sometimes.” He looked Harry dead in the eye, expression serious. “I don’t know what they told you, but it’s not a big deal here, alright? You don’t need to get worked up about it. If you like blokes, then you like blokes.” He shrugged and leaned back a bit, breaking the intense eye-contact. “I don’t mind boys myself, honestly. I prefer girls, but I can see the appeal.”

It took a minute for all of it too sink in, and Harry bit at his lower lip. “I...Pansy said people wouldn’t care, but I wasn’t sure... My Uncle said-” He cut off, not really wanting to get into it. Ever.

Dark eyes met his again, and Blaise quirked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you reacted this way, honestly. You did practically shout your orientation when you were- a few days ago, after all this started.”

Swallowing past the mention of Draco, Harry’s eyes slowly went wide. “You _heard_ that! But I thought you guys put up silencing charms around your bed!”

A snort came from Blaise. “What, and miss the biggest fight in our dorms yet? Please, what House do you think you’re in?”

Harry groaned and ducked his head into his arms.

Patting Harry on the back, Blaise said, “Well, at least you don’t have to panic about the dorm-mates finding out you’re gay anymore. Everyone already knows!”

The howl of pain Blaise gave after being kicked was very, very satisfying.

~*~

Harry flopped down in a chair in the small sitting area in the Great Hall. It was a new thing set up for the year to encourage mingling. He hoped that it would stay. It was neutral territory. Hermione sat down beside him and smiled at him from behind her textbook. Harry smiled back and put his feet up on the footrest.

“So, where’s Neville?” Harry asked as Ron dropped on his other side, still working on a pastry from dinner.

“He’s helping Professor Sprout with something.” Hermione replied, sliding a marker in place to hold her spot as she closed her book. “I’m surprised you aren’t hanging around with Malfoy.”

“We got into a fight,” Hary admitted with a frown and smiled when Hermione patted his hand.

“Is he jealous?” Ron finally managed after swallowing down the pastry. “Of you getting in? Fred and George looked so angry they could spit fire for about ten minutes and now they’re just concerned.”

Harry rose his shoulders in a shrug. “S’not like I wanted this. I hate fame and glory and all that rubbish, I just, most days I just want to be left alone... And now there’s a high chance I’m going to get splattered into a thousand tiny pieces because of one of these goddamn tasks, and Draco won’t care.”

Hermione sighed and wrapped an arm around him. “We can help you study spells, if you’d like. Also, you shouldn’t curse.”

Harry smiled bitterly but tucked himself into her embrace. It was very different from Pansy’s hugs, which were usually tight and all-encompassing. Hermione’s was loose and kind of uncertain and not very comforting at all. He sighed into it nonetheless.

“Maybe you can find a way to use that snake of yours, mate.”

Harry looked over at Ron. “It’s against the rules, we’re only allowed in with a wand.”

Ron looked at Harry and then rolled his eyes. “It’s against the rules, he says. Are you a Slytherin or not!? If you’re the youngest Champion and using a ruddy great snake is going to keep you from dying then I say cheat and use it!”

“As much as I would normally disagree, Ron’s right, you know. You should _technically_ be able to use your Oroboros as a tool. It won’t be doing your magic for you, just helping you focus. I’ve read of people using focus stones in previous tournaments, I can give you the notes if you’d --”

“I’ll think about it.” Harry patted Hermione’s knee before sitting up straight. It was strange, but now he didn’t feel so alone or lost. He smiled at the two Gryffindors. “So...” He chewed on his lip to try and think of a distraction or a way to change the subject.

“Fred and George are still mad at Bagman. He paid them their winnings after the Cup in Leprechaun gold. How sneaky is that? Git.”

“I can threaten him for them, if you’d like. The guy comes off slimy as a toad.”

Ron shot a look to Harry and the two of them dissolved into a conversation about Quidditch while Hermione opened her book up once again.

When Harry returned to his dorm later that night, he was in a much better mood than he had been since the fight. He showered and brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas before climbing into bed. All the other beds were curtained and silenced and he drew out a book and did the same. He felt Ananta coil about his feet and shivered when the snake’s tongue flicked over his foot, but didn’t jerk away.

Casting lumos, Harry set his wand aside and opened up Wizard for Wizard. Leaning back against the headboard he opened the pages to where he had slipped in a spare bit of parchment to mark. _Chapter Four: Acceptance_. Harry propped the book up on his knees and read until he drifted off over an hour later.

~*~

The first task was approaching far faster than Harry was comfortable with. He had been practicing with Snape, but everything he learned felt like just a drop in the bucket compared to his three year disadvantage.

He had finally gotten a reply from Sirius, who had made a remark about being alone in the Slytherin Common Room at one in the morning a few days from then. Harry had a bad feeling that he knew was Sirius was planning, but at the same time he was just desperate enough to let the man take the risk. Surely he knew what he was getting into, and Harry really wanted that information.

The tensions were still rising between the Slytherins and the Hufflepuffs. Harry was seeing more and more _Support Cedric Diggory!_ badges. As the number of those increased, the more willing the Slytherins were to stick up for him.

However, the one person who Harry wanted to have the support of most was the one who refused to even look at him.

Not looking at Harry didn’t stop the Malfoy heir from making snide comments from time to time.

“Historically, the first task tends to be some sort of creature challenge. It’s not a guarantee or anything, but just a trend. They’re big, showy events to kick everything off.” Blaise told Harry, lounging casually next to him on one of the couches. Across from them, Pansy was listening in on the conversation, and Draco appeared to be ignoring them as he read from the Charms textbook.

Wrinkling her nose, Pansy leaned forward so her elbows were resting on her knees. “They can’t be that bad, though, can they? It has to be a creature they can control.”

Blaise rolled his eyes. “You would think. I swear, this tournament is held together by nothing more than officials crossing their fingers and hoping. Rumor has it that one year there was a task with a Chimera, and it got loose and attacked some of the spectators.” A few students surrounding them shuddered.

“Well, maybe it’ll be a hippogriff, and Potter here can ride it. Make everyone ooh and ahh over him.” Draco spoke up, still not looking up from his book. Pansy and Blaise sent him disapproving looks, but Harry just looked down at his lap, trying to ignore him. “Let’s impress the crowd by pulling stupid stunts, like a Gryffindor. I can’t believe I’m agreeing with the Weasel, but Potter doesn’t belong in this house.”

Something in Harry broke, and he threw a pillow at Draco’s face. It wasn’t enough to do more that startle the blonde, but just messing up his hair and making his expression drop from that cool mask was enough for Harry. “That is _enough_ , Malfoy! If anyone doesn’t belong in Slytherin, it’s you! You’re the one whose acting like a spoiled little brat. Maybe you should go with the Hufflepuffs. They’re quick to turn on people too.”

Draco gave his most stuck-up expression, looking down at him. “Oh, please. We all know there’s only one Hufflepuff you’d like to try and turn. The way you pant after Diggory is disgusting.”

For a second only a squeak manged to make it passed the lump in his throat, and Harry leaned back, feeling like he’d been punched in the chest. Draco’s eyes went dark, like he hadn’t meant to say that at all, but Harry was beyond caring.

Draco _knew_ how uncomfortable he was about that sort of attention, and towards who he liked.

And to throw it in his face like that, in the middle of the Common Room...

Something like a sob escaped from him, and Harry could feel his face heat. Before he could break down in the middle of the gathered students, he grabbed his backpack and dashed out the passageway. He heard Pansy call his name but ignored her.

He just couldn’t.

By the time Harry had control over himself, he had ended up on the grounds, near where the giant horses were grazing, looking surprisingly calm and gentle as they grazed. He watched them for a few minutes, panting both from emotion and the physical exertion of running all the way up from the dungeons.

“Harry!” A booming voice called, and he spotted Hagrid coming up towards him. The man was wearing what looked like the nicest clothes he owned, and had his wild hair pulled back and...combed? “Good ter see yeh! I’ve bee’ meanin’ to talk wit yeh. Do yeh have yer cloak on yeh, by chance?”

As a matter of fact, Harry did. He had happened to stick it in his bag on the chance he wanted to try and sneak into the restricted section to try to pick up more helpful ideas. He pulled the corner out and showed it to the big man, who practically beamed at him. Seeing Hagrid’s enthusiasm and approval soothed the part of him that was raw and aching. “Good, good! Pu’ it on! I want ter show yeh something.”

Harry nodded agreeably and pulled the cloak on. Once he was covered, Hagrid motioned towards the Forbidden Forest. Swallowing nervously, Harry followed him into the thick woods, keeping a careful eye out for anything suspicious.

He didn’t have to wait long.

After a few minutes, the forest seemed to heat up a bit, and Harry could hear faint roars. They soon came across a huge field.

‘ _And here be dragons._ ’

Four of them, all huge and dangerous looking, were closed off into enclosures. They were all rearing up, roaring and spitting flames into the air. Each one was a different colour, and looked more vicious than the last.

The first task was _dragons_.

Harry thought suicide might be the smartest option at this point.

“Keep back, Hagrid!” A wizard shouted, pointing his wand at the black one, which was nearly beserk in it’s little space. “The flames can go forty feet!”

Muttering something that sounded almost reverent, Hagrid gazed up at the dragons with an expression of excitement.

It took stunners from all of the gathered wizards to take down the creature, and it still swayed for a long, terrifying moment before going down.

From the mists of the forest appeared Madame Maxime. Luckily, Harry’s curse was covered by the noises of the three remaining creatures and their handlers.

“Do yeh want teh get closer?” Hagrid asked her, voice almost boyish in his enthusiasm. The woman looked far less enchanted, and just a bit analytical as she surveyed the huge serpentine creatures.

A red haired man approached the group. With that specific shade of hair and his job, this could be no one but Charlie Weasley. Harry felt a stab of admiration for the man. He was crazy, clearly, but he was also brave and kind of cool for having that job.

Not that Harry wanted to join him.

Ever.

“You alright there?” He asked them, his voice friendly and easy. His tone reminded Harry more of the twins than Ron, who had a habit of being more opinionated than easygoing.

A nod came from Hagrid, as he took in the sights with glimmering eyes. “What breeds have yeh got here, Charlie?” He was gazing at the dark one - whose eyes were still cracked open, Harry realized with a jolt - like he was in love.

The dark one turned out to be a Hungarian Horntail. Charlie listed off a few others, but they went in one ear and out the other for Harry, who was trying not to panic and give away his presence.

Madame Maxime wandered off a bit to look at the others, and Charlie cast a serious look at Hagrid. “Should she be here?”

“She jus’ wanted teh see the dragons.” Hagrid assured him. Charlie looked doubtful, but Hagrid was only looking with his heart.

Having seen quite enough, and fairy confident that Hagrid had forgotten all about him in between the lady and the dragons, Harry made his way back towards the school. On the way he nearly ran into Karkaroff, who was sneaking towards the dragons in a way that was remarkably suspicious. Really, the man had shady character written all over him. The only think keeping Harry from thinking he was the one who had put his name in the Goblet was how very henchman-like he seemed. Really, Harry didn’t think he had the initiative to do something like that.

After dodging past him, Harry swallowed past the panic that trying to control him. He was supposed to get past one of _those_ things? _How_? It had taken multiple stunners from full grown wizards to knock the thing down. He was just a kid!

He gave thought to simply showing up than forfeiting, but decided to let that be his back-up plan. That would alienate his house faster than demanding a re-sorting to Gryffindor. No sense having to watch his back in the Common Room too.

A jolt of hurt travelled through Harry’s chest from thinking about that room, but he purposefully sidestepped the thought. He had to focus on the dragon or he was going to die.

As he approached Hogwarts, another thought struck Harry. He knew about the dragons, and by the tomorrow Fluer and Krum would too.

What about Cedric?

Part of him wanted to let the older boy find out on his own. He already had an advantage of several years over Harry. But, the part of him that seemed to think he was in Gryffindor demanded that make sure Cedric wouldn’t be caught so unawares.

Besides, he really didn’t want to see Cedric be hurt. The idea of anything hurting the Hufflepuff made Harry’s stomach twist.

Stupid feelings. It would be so much easier to act like a Slytherin without them.

First chance, he would talk to Cedric. For now, he was going to bed.


	7. Here There Be Dragons

Harry dropped into his seat inside the classroom with a mixture of trepidation and anxiousness. The work table was clear except for a mug of hot chocolate. Harry stared at it for a long moment, wondering why the drink of Snape’s choice had changed. Maybe the professor had finally picked up on his mental vibrations about how much he now hated chai tea. He picked up the mug and took a long sip, licking his lips and set the mug down and waited for the Potions Master.

After a minute or two the teacher strode into the room from the hallway rather than his office and Harry offered up a smile of greeting. Snape nodded to him and set down a small box of supplies on the desk by Harry’s elbow as he transfigured a stool into a more comfortable looking chair and sat down.

“So, how am I supposed to defeat a dragon. Is there anyway I can turn myself into Saint George?”

The joke Harry had tried for fell flat, even if Snape’s mouth twitched in recognition of the reference. He looked at Harry for a long moment. “So you figured out what the first task was?”

Harry rose a shoulder in a shrug as he he drained the last of his drink. “Draco and I got into another fight and I went for a walk to clear my head. They’re not exactly hidden are they?”

“They are now.”

Harry’s mouth twitched into something resembling a smile and he looked away. “So, any particularly strong stunning spells I can learn?”

Snape watched him for a long moment. “You do not wish to talk about your fights with Mr. Malfoy? Have you given up on him so soon?”

Harry opened his mouth to retort. To shoot the topic of conversation down. His mind nagged at him, however, reminding him that a fight had broken the friendship between Severus and his mother. It was probably a very sensitive topic to the older man. He shook his head a little and adjusted his glasses on his nose.

“No. I’m just giving him time to think and breathe.”

The words seemed to physically relax the professor and he let out a breath and nodded his head. “Very good. Now, stunning spells, while powerful, don’t work with one person only. It requires a team of professionals to bring one down with _Stupefy_. It would be foolish to do something so infantile.”

Harry’s mouth pulled down and he ran his fingers through his hair. “Well, I need a strategy...” He drummed his fingers on the desk top. “Maybe a sleeping spell? Or a binding spell?”

“Or perhaps you could use something more to your strengths.” Snape’s voice was not dismissive or rude, but rather lightly suggestive.

“Well... I don’t know what I could do. I’m so behind the others and I’m only allowed a wand.”

“Mr. Potter...” Snape levelled a look at him that made Harry feel like he was supposed to know what Snape was talking about. “A dragon is a serpent, correct?”

“Well, I thought it was more of a lizard but...” Harry trailed off as Snape’s words sunk in. “Oh. _**Oh**_! I can talk to it!”

“Precisely, Mr. Potter, or it is indeed worth a try.”

“Well, it would be good to have a back up just in case.”

“That is what today’s training session is about. While you can practice your Parseltongue in your spare time, I thought it best to work on other possible objectives. Aside from defensive magic, what is your next strongest subject?”

Harry’s brows knitted in thought. He was pretty sure Snape wasn’t hinting at potions. “Well... Flying, I suppose. But I already told you --”

“There are spells, Mr. Potter.” Snape pulled the box open and pulled out a small cushion. He crossed the room and set it on his desk. “Now, you’re going to snap and make a beckoning motions and say “ _Accio_ ” as well as the name of the object.” The man backed towards Harry’s desk. “Like so. _Accio_ cushion.” Harry watched as the cushion jettisoned off the desk towards Severus and the professor caught it.

“Wow, that’s a useful one.”

“You will find it comes in handy even when not facing dragons.” Snape set the cushion on the desk again and looked to Harry. “Your turn, Mr. Potter.”

Harry nodded and stood. He licked his lips and pulled out his wand. He pointed towards the cushion and snapped his wand towards him. “ _Accio_ cushion.” The cushion jerked and tumbled off the desk and onto the floor. Harry glared at it as if it had personally offended him.

“Again!”

Harry took a breath and pointed his wand again. “ _Accio_ cushion!”

~*~

It was late where Harry finally stumbled into the Common Room. In fact, it was approaching one in the morning. That time ran around in Harry’s head for a moment, fatigue slowing his mind.

And then he realized it was when Sirius was supposed to show up.

Luckily the Common Room was deserted as Harry had hoped, and he didn’t have to cause some sort of disturbance to clear it out. He leaned against the base of one of the couches and rested his head against the cushions, exhaustion pulling at him.

A sudden green flare caught his eye just before he could doze off, and he cracked open his eyes to see Sirius’ face on the flames. “Wow, it’s been ages since I was here. Still as creepy and uncomfortable as ever.”

“It’s plenty comfortable.” Harry informed him, feeling put out. “In fact, I was just about to drift off.”

Sirius’ face twisted, and Harry got the impression he had just shrugged. “Sorry, sorry. Just not my taste, is all.” His distraction gave the boy a moment to study him. He looked a lot better now. Less gaunt, his hair cut back from the knotted, mangy locks into something more presentable. He looked more like the photo from his parents wedding.

After a moment, he seemed to shake out of it. “Never mind that! How are you, kiddo?”

His heart twisted, but Harry just shrugged. “Fine. All things considering, I mean.” He considered arguing against the nickname - he wasn’t overly fond of them, in general - but figured it wasn’t worth it.

The head in the fire nodded seriously. “You’re a strong kid.” He tracked over Harry’s face before continuing. “So, tell me about what you know so far.”

Harry told him about his suspicions about the cup, and his thoughts on each of the officials. So far his impression of all of them was something like ‘It could make sense, I guess, but it’s not very likely’.

For a moment, he wanted to talk about Draco, and the dragons, and how much it hurt that the school had turned on him. But then he remembered that Sirius Black was a stranger to him. A relic from a life that didn’t exist anymore. And so Harry kept his mouth shut.

The man looked plenty concerned without the additional information anyway. “There’s some information that might help you.”

“Yeah?” Harry leaned forward. There was a note of secrecy to Sirius’ voice, and Harry would be a terrible Slytherin if it didn’t intrigue him.

Sirius shifted a bit, face darkening. “Karkaroff, the Durmstrang Headmaster. He was a Death Eater, Harry.”

The boy blinked. “Oh. That’s it?”

Blinking back, Sirius’ brows drew together. “That’s it? Harry, do you know what Death Eaters are?”

Sending a dry look through the flames, Harry refrained from rolling his eyes. “Sirius, I’m in Slytherin. Of course I do. It’s just kind of obvious that the man was something like that.” He shrugged. “The way he skulks about, and he always looks so suspicious. It’s really just not a surprise.”

This lackluster response seemed to throw Sirius off, as well as worry him a bit. “Just... be careful.” He cleared his throat. “There are some other strange things going on too. A Ministry of Magic witch - Bertha Jones, knew her in school. She was all nose, no brains, that one - has gone missing. Stuff like that. It’s starting to paint an ugly picture.” He paused again, the cogs clearly turning in his head. “Look, if you need... I can be there, you know. I’m back in the country.” Harry doubted he’d ever left it still, but kept his mouth shut. “If you want, I can be at Hogwarts soon. Maybe not before the first task, but-”

Harry shook his head violently. “No way! There’s no sense in you being caught for this. I have plenty of people looking after me, and I’ve been keeping myself safe for years now. It’s just not a smart idea.”

The man’s expression twisted into something disappointed, and Harry had the feeling that, more than anything, this had been an excuse for Sirius to do something exciting. “Are you sure? I’ll be careful, honest.” His eyes searched Harry’s, something new twisting at his lips. “Your father would have wanted to do it, you know. Would have thought it fun.”

That line worked on some little part of Harry that still felt the ache of the Dursleys and his parents’ death. The rest of him felt irritated by that low blow. “Well, I have it on very good authority that I’m rather more like my mother.” He responded sharply.

“Who? Snape?” Sirius spat out the name like it tasted bad, and Harry had to bite back a defense for his professor. That wouldn’t help here.

Instead, he gave a light shrug. “Well, yes, but I was referring to Professor Lupin.”

That made Sirius pause, and he twisted slightly like he was trying to look back behind himself. So he was staying with Lupin then. “Remus did? Huh.” He seemed much more amendable to the idea now, and returned his gaze to Harry. “I suppose I can see that, a bit.” He still looked somewhat disappointed, and more than a tad reluctant. He did that motion that looked like a shrug again. “All right. But I can be there anytime. Remember that. I should go - you need all the sleep you can get. Bye, Harry.”

“Bye, Sirius.” With that the head became normal flames. Harry yawned and stood up slowly, making his way up towards his dorm. He was going to sleep deeply tonight.

As he passed by Draco’s bed, he thought he caught gray eyes watching him with worry from between a crack in his curtains. But when he looked back they were gone.

Shrugging off the impression, Harry collapsed into his bed.

The first task was in two days.

For the first time, he felt like he might be okay.

~*~

The next morning Harry tracked down Cedric first thing. He had put it off to give himself a bit of an advantage, and now guilt was clawing at him.

At first the Hufflepuff had been skeptical of the information, more on the idea that dragons were a crazy thing to be going against then mistrusting Harry. But when the younger boy was able to give a play by play on what he’d seen (leaving out Hagrid’s involvement), he agreed and thanked Harry for the tip.

“Just so you know,” Cedric said, sounding embarrassed and slightly guilty, “I’ve asked them to stop wearing those badges. It’s not fair. Either way, it’s a Hogwarts win, right?” He gave a grin like he was trying to cheer Harry up, patting him on the shoulder. Harry would be lying if he said that didn’t perk him up a bit.

After taking a moment to control his heartbeat and blush, and having the sneaking suspicion he had only been partially successful, Harry went for a nonchalant shrug. “I get it. No big deal. They’re just being loyal, right?”

He got another grin for that. “You’re a good guy, Harry.” Cedric told him. He patted Harry once more on the shoulder before making his excuses, off to make a plan for battling a dragon.

For a moment Harry stood there, feeling vaguely like he could fly circles around the dragon without needing the broom, but shook himself out of it. He had a snake to talk to, and Pansy to convince to help.

The rest of the day and a good portion of the next passed far faster than Harry was comfortable with, and before long he was being lead to a tent where the Champions were to get their instructions.

This was it.

Harry watched as Victor did warm up exercises in the corner while Fleur was pacing a rut into the ground muttering to herself in French. Cedric was sitting down in one of the appointed chairs, looking a little sick. Harry felt better knowing that he wasn’t the only nervous one.

“Pssst.”

Harry shook at the low noise and looked around for the source of it. It was coming from a side flap in the tent.

“Harry?”

Trying to look casual, Harry shuffled his way over to the side of the tent. “Pansy?”

“It’s me. Look, they won’t let me in.”

Harry cursed under his breath before Pansy burst through the flap and caught him unaware. She flung herself against him with an over dramatic wailing sob. Harry staggered back, his arms folding over her back and crushing her close to his body. The others looked at him as Pansy went into a series of hiccuping, rollicking sobs and he shot them a look and a shrug.

He patted her shoulder. “Pansy, it’s going to be okay.”

“You _must_ be careful! You’re my most best friend.” Harry cringed at her grammar. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you!”

She shook him hard and nearly choked him and Harry made a noise of annoyance at her motions. However, he realized as she shook him once again, that he felt the familiar weight of Ananata coiled around his waist. He grinned into her hair and pet it and pressed a kiss to her ear.

A flashbulb went off in front of his eyes and Pansy jerked back, looking towards the source.

“Young love! How very beautiful!”

Both Harry and Pansy bit back their snorts of amusement at Skeeter, who was now flitting about, ignoring Krum as he tried to tell her to leave. Pansy’s hand squeezed Harry’s and he smiled at her and squeezed back.

“You do have a plan, right?” Pansy asked, adjusting his collar and combing his hair with her fingers, playing up the girlfriend role Skeeter had assigned her perfectly.

Might as well ham it up while he had the chance. Harry nodded his head and let her fidget with his clothes, no doubt making sure the Oroboros that was coiled about him was hidden. He let his fingers trail over her cheekbones as they fell into the ruse and the rest of the world became easy to ignore.

“Everything’s going to be _fine_ , Pans, I promise you.” He toyed with her braid and was sure that if Blaise was here he would have been chopped into little pieces by now. The thought made him smile.

Again came Pansy’s crocodile tears and she trembled against him in a spectacular show of fear. “I can’t go on if I lose you! Life just won’t be worth living!”

“You’ll have Blaise!”

“It’s not the same!” With that she reared back and grabbed hold of his face.

Harry had a fleeting moment of _oh bugger_ before she kissed him full force. He stumbled a bit and made a choked noise, his arms flailing for a brief moment before they settled easily against her waist. One of her hands was gripping hard at his shoulder and the other was awkwardly pressed just above his arse and they were going to have a conversation if he survived this. He was also desperately trying not to laugh.

Pansy finally pulled away and Harry swayed in place, dazed. Pansy grinned and wiped at her lower lip with her thumb and winked at him. “Something for you to think on. Something to survive for.” She backed up slowly and rose a hand to wave at him. “I’ll be in the stands. Rooting for you.”

Harry watched as she ducked under the flap and looked around the tent with a muted stunned expression. What had just happened? Oh Merlin, Blaise was going to **murder** him. Probably laughing manically the whole time. Out of the corner of his eye Harry noticed Skeeter’s quill working rapid-fire. If Draco saw this he was going to piece him back together and murder him again.

Hopefully he could drag Pansy with him.

Dumbledore entered the tent along with Madame Maxime, Professor Sprout, Professor Snape, Karkaroff, and Crouch. With a look from Snape, Skeeter made her way out of the tent and the four Champions gathered around Crouch and Dumbledore, their various representatives behind them. Harry felt tension seep from his body when Snape’s hands squeezed protectively at his shoulders.

“The rules of this task is fairly simple. Each one of you will go against a mothering dragon guarding a clutch of eggs. You will have to retrieve a golden egg from her nest. The egg holds a clue to the next task.. Those who do so in the quickest time, with the least amount of damage done, and along with other features such as ingenuity, will be rewarded the highest points. Now, each dragon has a number. Ms. Delacour, if you would...”

Fleur reached into the small bag and pulled out a replica of a long, slender green dragon with the number two on it. It screeched and unfurled it’s wings in her palms.

“Ah, the Welsh Green! Mr. Diggory?”

Cedric plunged his hand into the bag, his mouth twisted and pulled out a replica. It was a squat thing, with a long tail and bulbous head. It was blue-grey in colour and had the number one on it.

“The Swedish Short-Snout.”

The bag was passed to Krum. Harry stared at it as bile rose in his throat. Krum reached inside. It was bright scarlet and regal looking. It huffed out a mushroom shaped flame from it’s nostrils and had a three on it.

“The Chinese Fireball... That leaves young Mr. Potter with...”

 _The Hungarian Horntail_.

Harry pulled out the replica. Even in it’s replica state it was massive and jet black. Harry stared down at it in no small amount of fear as he felt Severus’ hands tighten on his shoulders. He gulped down a breath. He could do this. He just had to stay focused!

“Well, we’ll leave you to prepare. At the sound of the whistle, Mr. Diggory, you will exit first into the arena for your task; followed by Ms. Delacour, Mr. Krum and Mr. Potter. Good luck to you all.”

Crouch swept from the tent, followed rather quickly by Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, and Professor Sprout. Dumbledore lingered a moment longer before leaving and Harry twisted in place to look at Snape, whose concern was plain on his face.

“I’ll be fine, sir.” Harry tried for assured, but it came out weak. He tapped his hand against his temple. “Got my strategies all lined up.”

Snape stared down at him and Harry felt his strong, long fingers creep over his jaw and lock his head in place. Biting his lip Harry reached up and removed his glasses, knowing what Snape was doing. He felt and heard the strong inhale and peered up, unblinkingly until he felt Snape move. He was folded into his arms and Harry was rigid for a long moment, unsure and rather embarrassed before he returned the gesture.

It was over as quickly as it started and Harry had his glasses on just in time to see Snape exit the tent. The sound of the whistle went off and Harry watched as Cedric made his way towards the opening in the tent. Harry shot him a smile and Cedric returned it, but it was a little strained and then Harry sat.

They listened to the crowd and after what seemed like an eternity a bell sounded and cheers went up. Cedric was hustled into the tent not long after, making loud, pained cries and pressing something to the side of his face. Harry cringed in fear and sympathy and watched through a part in the curtain as the fabric that was pressed to the side of Cedric’s face was brought away stained in blood. He watched as Madame Pompfrey worked quickly to spread orange paste that Harry recalled from his reading was burn paste over Cedric’s face.

Then Fleur was gone. He dragon was loud. Then it wasn’t. When Fleur returned she was in better shape but the legs of her task uniform were singed away and her hair was mussed greatly and she was covered in dirt. She was smiling, however, and took a potion from the medi-witches and sat down.

When Krum left the noise of the crowd was nearly deafening. He heard the muffled, excited sounds that didn’t quite carry of the commentary. He heard a loud roar and then a loud cheer before the bell sounded. Krum returned looking pleased but angry. He was muttering under this breath as he dropped into his seat and flung off his gloves as he took the potion.

Harry stood. His legs felt like rubber.

The whistle went off.

Here went everything.

Harry made his way down towards the stadium that had been set up for the event. The sound of his footsteps almost sounded like funeral bells. Telling himself to stop being morbid, he rubbed along Ananta’s back. The snake shifted, and bit his tail. The thrumming power helped calm him, and he stepped forward towards the dragon.

The Hungarian Horntail was just as big and terrifying as he remembered. In fact, she was more so, now that she wasn’t stunned and glaring directly at him. The thin metal chain keeping her attached to the rocky floor did not make him feel any better.

Roaring, the dragon strained towards him, and let out a jet of fire. Seeker reflexes kicking in, Harry jumped to the side and rolled out of the way, neatly avoiding the flames. But he couldn’t keep that tactic up for long.

This wand slipped into his hand, and Harry held it up against his throat and cast ‘Sonorus!’ His throat buzzed oddly, and he could hear his breath echo over the stands, like he was talking into a microphone.

Here goes nothing.

Concentrating, Harry narrowed his eyes and spoke. “: _Hello? Dragon? Can you hear me?_ ”

The creature didn’t respond, sending another jet of fire his way. The audience, on the other hand, went suddenly very still and quiet. As he dodged the flames, he could see Madame Maxime holding a hand over her mouth, and Karkaroff go very pale, like he’d seen a ghost.

Still holding his wand to his throat, Harry gulped and tried again. “ _Can you understand me? Please respond._ ”

No dice.

Harry let out a groan of frustration, which was also caught by the spell and magnified. The Hungarian Horntail seemed almost more annoyed as she tried to swipe her tail at him. The chain made the gesture fall short, however.

“ _Silly human, do you know nothing?_ ” Ananta asked him, shifting slightly. Apparently the snake could speak just fine with his tail in his mouth. “ _The Great Serpent will not respond to such language. You must be more forceful!_ ”

Harry glanced down, surprised. That implied it was possible, right? Glancing up again, he took a moment to view the crowd. Most everyone looked stunned and still, even the Hogwarts students. Apparently almost everyone had forgotten about that particular talent. He caught sight of Snape, leaning forward and looking tense. Not to far from there he saw Draco and Pansy. The girl was practically jumping up and down, shaking the blonde in the process. She extended her finger towards the dragon, as though he could fail to miss the giant dragon spitting fire at him.

He was going to do them proud. All of them.

Taking a deep breath, Harry took on a more defiant posture and screamed out, “ _HEY! YOU GREAT WANKER! LISTEN TO ME BEFORE I **MAKE** YOU LISTEN!_ ”

The words echoed through out the stadium, unnaturally loud, even with the charm. With every reverberation, it became less distinct, and Harry could tell the words had come out as something closer to a roar than a hiss.

Well. That was interesting.

Now the dragon was paying attention to him, cocking her head back and forth. She roared, the sound strangely conversational, but Harry couldn’t understand it. Instead he continued. “ _THERE’S A FAKE IN YOUR EGGS! I NEED TO TAKE IT AWAY!_ ” It was starting to hurt to speak that way, and Harry swallowed.

Letting out another roar, this one angry, the creature crouched protectively over her eggs. Okay, time to do what a Slytherin does best. Lie. “ _THE IMPOSTOR WILL HARM YOUR CLUTCH! IF I CANNOT TAKE IT, THEN THEY WILL ALL DIE BEFORE THEY CAN EVEN HATCH!_ ”

The dragon seemed to consider this for a long moment. Harry prepared to jump out of the way of another attack. But, amazingly, the creature started to back away. She eyed him, and made it clear that she’d attack him if he did anything funny, but soon his way was clear.

Harry took one step toward the nest, and then another. She stayed away.

He never broke into a run, and never let down his guard. After a few tense minutes he had his hands on the golden egg. Harry backed away, carefully keeping his front towards her at all times. She sniffed at him, and once or twice looked like she was rethinking the deal, but never acted.

Finally he was out of her range, he finished the _sonorus_ and held the egg up.

The crowd went wild.

Over at the judges table, Dumbledore looked like he wanted to start smirking, and the other Headmasters looked like they had been slapped.

Ignoring them for now, Harry turned to the stand, and caught sight of Pansy and Draco both jumping up and down, dignity utter forgotten. He grinned at them and waved, forgetting for a moment about all the fighting.

Then he made his way back out of the stadium, grinning like a loon.

In the tent, Rita was waiting for him, as well as Madame Pomfrey. He was quickly informed that he was in perfect condition, and could he please get out while she dealt with the people who needed attention? Rita tried to use that chance to jump on him, but he gave her a look. She glowered at him, but twisted around to start interviewing Cedric.

Before he could do so much as sit down, Pansy dashed into the tent and physically dragged him out of it. Outside, Draco was standing, looking equal parts excited and awkward.

“Draco has something to say.” She informed him primly.

The blonde shifted, and the look in his eyes begged Harry to not make him say it. Harry was not feeling that forgiving, and just stared.

Finally, he shrugged and looked down. “I was an arse, okay? I’m sorry, Harry. C-can we stop fighting now?”

Harry eyed him. “I don’t know-” He cut off there, overtaken by a coughing fit. It took a couple of minutes of Pansy pounding him enthusiastically on the back (which did not help, but he had no luck in squirming away) to get control of himself. Apparently human vocal cords were not made to speak Dragon.

Instead of answering verbally, he gave a shrug, eyeing Draco critically. The boy got the hint and flushed. “I said I’m sorry.” His voice took on a sullen tone. And then Pansy stamped on his foot. “Ow! Bloody- Fine, fine! Some of the stuff I said... You really shouldn’t forgive me. But I’m going to ask you to anyway. I’m really sorry, Harry.” And he did look sincere, in between glaring at the girl, who was now beaming at them.

The part of Harry that had missed Draco so much went to war with the part that was still very hurt. In the end, he gave another shrug, but added a small smile to this one. Draco smiled back, understanding. He was mostly forgiven, but it would take time.

Pansy coughed then, and it sounded strangely like ‘boys!’. They ignored her.

The two launched into an explanation of what each of the other Champions had done as they made their way to his judging. The various officials were just getting started when they arrived.

First up was Madame Maxime. She gave him an unreadable stare, which was easy for her since she towered over the crowd, before raising her wand. Something like ribbon uncoiled from the tip and became a large ‘nine’. The crowd applauded her choice, and Harry smiled at her. She continued to stare as she sat back down.

After her was Mr. Crouch, who looked disapproving, but also cast a nine in the air. Even as he did so, he cast a highly suspicious look Harry’s way. He did his best to ignore it. Following that was Dumbledore, who serenely cast a ten. “A very elegant solution, Mr. Potter. The one where all parties come to an understanding is always the best.” He said, before sitting back down.

The man just could not miss an opportunity to put in his two knuts, could he?

Next was Bagman, who gave him a perfect ten, all the while shooting Harry winning looks. It reminded Harry of Lockhart, which made him shiver uncomfortably.

Next was Karkaroff. He was looking off into the distance, expression still surprised and slightly horrified. He didn’t stand, but also cast a ten. He didn’t look anywhere but that middle distance the whole time.

Harry thought that he’d rather have gotten a lousy score then that creepy reaction. And maybe he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the warnings about him.

The crowd’s applause grew thunderous, as it became clear that Harry was in first place. Pansy wrapped one arm around him, and Draco bumped their shoulders together. Not too far away, Harry could see Professor Snape standing a bit back from the crowd, practically radiating pride. Ludo Bagman’s instructions about the next task fell into the background as warmth filled Harry.

Yeah. It had ended up being a good day.

People were milling about, congratulating the Champions on jobs well done or collecting or giving money for bets. Pansy pressed a cup of honey lemon tea into Harry’s hand and he took it with a grateful smile and took a large sip. The heat and the herbal tea felt soothing on his throat and warmed him in the mid-November chill. He finished it and it refilled itself and he took another sip waving and nodding to various people.

“Harry, hey Harry!”

Harry turned at Ron’s voice and nodded in his direction, taking another long sip of tea as he gave a wave.

“That was mental what you did! Completely barking mad and it _worked_! I knew you’d do it o’course. Seamus owes me for it. Anyway, my brother Charlie, he’s here from Romania, he wants to talk to you, is that cool?”

Harry wanted to grimace and decline but instead he nodded his head and Ron shot off through the crowd. Hermione was standing in his stead.

“Sore throat?”

Harry nodded.

“I imagine so. That was quite impressive. You were speaking Parseltongue and then all of a sudden you _roared_! It was quite amazing and a little bit intimidating. Though I must commend you, you didn’t hurt the dragon or the nest. And I think you were the fastest. Oh, would you like a lozenge? I think I have one in my bag.” Hermione was already rifling through her bag and pulled out a box of Muggle throat lozenges.

Harry grinned at her and popped two out and sucked on them. The medicinal ingredients almost instantly started soothing and numbing his throat. He handed her back the box and took a sip of his tea as he shuffled on his feet, feeling awkward.

“Oh, there’s Millicent. I’m going to go say hi. See you later, Harry.”

Harry watched as Hermione walked off and a moment or two later Ron appeared, behind him was the man harry had seen tending to the dragons the other night. The man looked just as suave and cool now as he had in the forest. His hair was sheared short, unlike the rest of the scraggy mess of the Weasley’s. He also had a few scars over him and had an earring. Harry thought he looked a bit like a rock star.

“Hi! Charlie Weasley. Dragonologist.”

Harry took his hand and shook.

“That was amazing. There have been competing theories amongst dragon keepers on communication and I have to say you just blew the debate wide open. No one had even considered using a Parselmouth before. Besides, they’re so rare and usually so secretive about it. How’d you do it?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Just talked... I guess.” His voice was gravelly and a little broken but thanks to the tea and the lozenges it didn’t hurt to talk. “I tried regular Parseltongue, which is all rather polite... and then Ananta, that’s my Oroboros, you see...” The snake slid out from under the cover of Harry’s shirt at the mention of his name. Harry pet him. “He said dragons are more direct and more... well... loud. So I tried screaming rudely and it worked.”

Charlie nodded his head, looking impressed. “When Olive - that’s the dragon - roared back, could you understand her?”

Harry shook his head. “No. I don’t know if they have words, exactly, or more... tonal communication.” He watched as Ananta stuck his snout into the tea and lapped at it curiously. “I don’t think we’re really meant to talk with them, because let me tell you, it hurt.”

“Your voice is rather shredded.” Charlie paused and tapped a hand against his chin in thought before giving Harry a look. “It’s a shame. We could put your skills to use. It would be a much better, and easier task if we could relocate the dragons without need for potions and spells.” He sighed and ran his hand over his cropped hair, thinking. “Well, I’ll tell you what, when you leave Hogwarts and if it’s in your interest, you’re more than welcome to write me for a job.”

Harry grinned at Charlie. “Thanks. Well... I’m kind of knackered so...”

“Of course! Congratulations again.”

Harry turned from the Weasleys and let Pansy and Draco lead him back up to the castle. When they arrived the Great Hall was half-full of people coming and going for food and Harry, who had skipped lunch, eating seemed like a damn good idea. He sat down at the table with Pansy and Draco on either side of him and took a bite of the shepherd's pie that spooned two great spoonfuls of food onto his plate.

“So, what do you want to do after dinner?” Pansy asked conversationally.

Harry grinned at her. “Sleep. I didn’t really sleep at all last night and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to at least celebrate a bit, Harry.” Draco prodded, holding out a piece of liver for Ananta, who took it from his fingers with a hiss and a lick.

“Alright, maybe a bit of a party.”

Pansy grinned and took a bite of her own shepherd’s pie. “Atta boy!”

Harry rolled his eyes at her and took a bite of his food. “Where’s Blaise?”

“He left after the task to chase down some guy in Ravenclaw who owed him twenty galleons. He said he’d see us back in common room.”

Harry nodded his head and tucked back into his food, feeling satisfied.

By the time they reached Common Room they were all in a cheerful mood. Harry felt lazy and content. He felt like he could sleep like a stone. The physical exhaustion of the day plus the warm, heavy food was making him feel drowsy. A few students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons shot him a few dirty looks, but he was riding high and they just rolled right off his back like water.

They entered the Common Room and it was like a wall of sound. As soon as someone spotted Harry sparks showered the air along with with confetti and cheers went up. Harry grinned, feeling warmed by the greeting. Especially when some of them had treated him coldly in the past. An off key, slightly flat rendition of “for he’s a jolly good fellow” broke out and Harry laughed and ducked his head. He was lead to a couch and sank into it, and leaned against Pansy when she sat next to him. He took a bottle of Butterbeer from someone and nursed it slowly, feeling lazy.

“Good day?” Pansy asked, her voice a low murmur in his ear.

Harry nodded his head, nuzzling against her. She was stroking her long, strong fingers through his hair in a way that was making him heady. “Best day.”

He felt her smile against him and he looked over at Draco through half-lidded eyes. He looked beautiful, relaxed and wearing a soft smile and looked utterly carefree as he sprawled against the couch and sipping his butterbeer. Harry was almost sleepy and hazed enough to crawl over Pansy and kiss Draco. And what a victory kiss it would be...

He pushed the thought away and hummed low in his throat as a smile spread over his face and he closed his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?”

“How lucky I am to have you. Both of you.”

Pansy laughed a little and nosed into his hair. “We’re the lucky ones, Harry.”

“Nuh-uh.” Harry yawned widely and snuggled against her shoulder. “I love the both of you, you know that right?”

“Alright,” Draco’s voice broke through and Harry opened his his eyes to look at the blonde and shoot him a smile. “Someone needs to go to bed.”

Harry stumbled up with Pansy and Draco’s help and his drink was taken from him by Pansy and put aside. The three of them walked up to the boys dorms and Harry collapsed on his bed with a wide yawn. “‘M tired.”

Draco plucked his glasses from his nose. “Then go to bed.”

Harry’s hand sought out Draco’s warmth and he patted Draco’s shoulder. “You’re the best.” Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Draco. “I love you, you know that?”

Draco smiled down at Harry, who was now snoring quietly and brushed hair off of Harry’s forehead. “I know.”

Pansy took hold of Draco’s wrist and pulled him up into a hug before leading him back down to the party as they left Harry to sleep.


	8. May I Have This Dance?

Harry ended up sleeping in a bit the next morning. When he woke up, the dorm was empty and a note was pined to his curtains. _We couldn’t stomach the thought of waking you. You probably needed the sleep anyway. Love, Pansy and Draco._ Judging by the handwriting, Pansy had been the one to write it. Which made a lot of sense.

And so Harry ended up stumbling into the Great Hall when it was already in session. Conversation stopped when he entered, but it wasn’t near so hostile as before. Well, okay, a lot of the Hufflepuffs still looked just as angry. But then Cedric waved at him and grinned before sending disappointed looks at anyone who was giving Harry the eye.

Colour bloomed on his cheeks,and Harry waved a bit back before slipping into his own seat. Draco was not looking at him. Instead he seemed to find his plate fascinating. Harry wrote it off as the boy being awkward from their fight and just let him work it out for himself. “You really could have woke me up. What if I had missed breakfast?”

From a few seats over, Millicent snorted. “You would have lived.”

Shrugging, Harry poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice. “Well, yeah. But it wouldn’t have been fun.”

Draco picked his head up and met Harry’s eyes, expression serious. “I would have asked my parents for the way to the kitchens. You are not going hungry.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, smiling softly at him. Draco nodded once before turning back to his plate.

Silence followed their first public civil interaction in months, before everyone seemed to decide to ignore the lingering strangeness. “You sound alright. I guess you’re throat is feeling better.”

His hand came up automatically to rub at his throat. “Yeah. I hadn’t really thought about it. The tea yesterday helped a lot.” 

Just then, a flurry of owls entered the room. One brown one dropped the _Daily Prophet_ into Pansy’s lap before fluttering away. She took a casual sip of water as she opened it. For a moment she scanned the front page calmly. And then she choked on her drink.

Blaise patted her on the back with one hand and took the paper with the other hand. After a moment his eyes widened and his eyes darted between Harry and Pansy. “What the hell?”

His girlfriend’s coughing became howling laughter as he dropped the paper onto the table for everyone to see. 

On the front page, front and center, was a picture of Pansy laying one on Harry.

“Get some, Potter!” Millicent said, just to be an ass. He glared at her. Blaise glared at him. Draco glared at the paper.

Grabbing the paper and flipping it over so he couldn’t see his picture self’s eyes widening and Pansy’s almost too enthusiastic expression. “Damn it. Why is this on the front page? Is my love life _that_ important to everyone?”

Pansy was still laughing, even as she patted Blaise on the shoulder. “That is the best thing I’ve ever seen!” She choked out.

“No, really. What the hell is that, Potter?” Blaise asked him, not even looking at Pansy.

Holding up his hands in a placating gesture, Harry leaned back from the other boy. “She was just slipping me Ananta!”

“With her _mouth_?!”

Harry let his head fall onto the desk. “No! But she hugged me, and then Rita assumed she was my girlfriend, and it seemed like a pretty good excuse and then she kissed me and oh, Merlin, please don’t hex me.”

Slowly, Blaise’s eyes switched from Harry to Pansy. “This was your intention the entire time, wasn’t it?”

“Of course!” Pansy told him, finally gaining control of herself. He pushed her on the shoulder, and she smiled and kissed him on the cheek. “Harry is just for the publicity. You can be my hot, illicit affair.” Blaise looked like he was actually considering this. “Besides, you kiss much better than him.”

Before Harry could protest that, more for his pride than anything, Draco grabbed his goblet and poured the liquid over the paper, making it unreadable. Pansy squawked in protest, but stopped at the look in his face.

“Why does this keep _happening_?” Draco growled.

Confused, Harry put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. “You okay?”

The boy whirled on Harry, grey eyes narrowed and sparking. “No, I am not! Why do you keep _doing_ this?”

“Doing what?” Harry yelped, utterly confused and rather hurt. Behind him, Pansy hissed quietly, and Blaise groaned.

Draco’s mouth opened and then snapped shut. He stood suddenly and grabbed his bag. “I’ll talk to you later. I just... I can’t right now.” With that he stormed out.

Eyes wide and pained, Harry turned to Pansy and Blaise. “What did I _do_?”

Blaise groaned again.

~*~

The rest of the day had been a strange mix of tense and relaxed. Harry still had no explanation of why Draco had acted the way he had at breakfast. However, Pansy was looking at him with an apologetic expression throughout the rest of the day that just left Harry even more confused than he already was. Every so often he would get strange looks from people who had seen the newspaper article and knew Pansy and Blaise were dating. He tried his best to ignore them. 

A little after supper, the Slytherins had been told to gather in the Common Room because Snape had an important announcement. Harry was sitting next to Millicent, who was playing with Hecate in her lap. The Siamese cat mewed loudly any time Harry shifted too close and batted at Harry with it’s sharp claws. There wasn’t much else the cat could do. It was large like Millicent, only a million times more lazy, so it usually spent it’s time curled up in a lump on Millicent’s bed glowering at everything and meowing at everyone for treats. 

Pansy was draped over Blaise’s lap. The two had clearly made amends and were whispering quietly to each other. Every so often they would look at Harry across from them or to Draco who was beside them. Then the two of them would return to whispering or to snog lazily. 

It was both adorable and sickening. 

A little past seven the archway opened and Snape walked in. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his robes and his sharp eyes looked out over the students. They were all fourth year or higher and he nodded before sending a look towards Pansy.

“Are we short on chairs, Ms. Parkinson?”

“I don’t... oh...” Sliding out of Blaise’s lap, Pansy occupied the spot between Draco and Blaise with a grin. 

Snape nodded again and walked a circle about the Common Room, making sure everyone was there. Finally he made his way back towards the entrance way and removed his hands from his pockets, withdrawing a scroll and his wand. He attached the scroll to the message board behind his left shoulder with a flick of his wand. 

“The Headmaster has asked me to announce the upcoming events. On Christmas Eve, as the host school for the Triwizard Tournament, we will be having the Yule Ball. Beginning in two days time you will report to the disused classroom at the end of the hall. It has been cleared of obstruction and will serve purpose to instruct you on dance. I will not have you defiling the great name of Slytherin by dancing about like a bunch of trolls. You are to bring appropriate footwear - this means dress shoes or boots for wizards and high heeled or flat soled dress shoes for witches. You are also to wear your uniforms with full robes and cloaks to give you the feel of how you will move in proper attire for wizards. Witches may either wear their uniform in full or they may wear a dress of appropriate covering. Further information can be gathered from the advertisement. That is all.”

With that Snape swept from the room, the walls closing up behind him with a strangely loud crash. There was a long minute of silence before everyone started talking. Harry slid down in his seat. Draco had been right - his mother had bought them the robes for the Ball - and Harry chewed on his lower lip. 

This meant asking someone. 

This meant dancing in public. 

His life was over. 

What if the dance was boy-girl only?

What if he didn’t get a date?

Harry groaned and made his way up the stairs to his bedroom. His heart felt heavy and his head was pounding. Everything was moving too fast and in the wrong direction. He felt confused and lost. He changed while the room was unoccupied and pulled something out of his trunk before closing his curtains. He sat in his bed, clutching the memory locket Draco had given him. 

It had felt like he had gotten it ages ago for his birthday, back before second year. 

He stared at the shining silver in his palm and opened the locket. The memory shot out of the locket like floating smoke. He watched as it took shape and molded into Draco holding him in front of the mirror after he had been rescued from the Dursleys. It was the first time Harry had ever felt completely and truly safe. 

Harry reclined in bed and watched as the memory danced about. Swirling and replaying. He fell asleep watching it. His mind conflicting with his heart as sleep took him. 

~*~

The classroom down that hall had indeed been cleared. The sides now had a number of chairs for the upperclassman to sit, but the rest was open space. When they arrived, Snape was already standing there, looking like a severe statue rather than someone who was about to start dancing.

It took several minutes for the students to get themselves seated, and the whole time the Potions professor half glared at them, clearly impatient to get what he saw as a chore out of the way.

Once the talking died down, he cleared his throat pointedly and raked his gaze over them. “I am aware that many of you are already aware of how to do the traditional dance that is required for the first part of the ball.” Many students nodded, including Pansy, Draco and Blaise. Harry shrank back a bit from them, feeling awkward. “However, an equal number of you are either completely unaware of it, or have never found it necessary to master the steps. Therefore, I will demonstrate, and then you will each perform it until you have it perfected. I will not have members of my House looking like idots and affecting our reputation. Am I understood?” Nods went around the gathered students, and Snape eyed them all before relenting.

It turned out that Snape was actually fairly graceful when he had a mind to be. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise - the way he walked specifically to cause his robes to billow had to take some sort of fine control. After showing the basic steps, he asked for a volunteer.

Pansy’s hand shot into the air, a smirk already forming. Her boyfriend glared at her, and Snape ignored her completely.

For a long moment no one else so much as moved. Then Millicent raised her hand.

Every eye in the room tracked to the large girl. She stared back, completely unembarrassed. Professor Snape eyed her for a second, looking like he was searching for her angle. When he got the same dry look back, he nodded to her and motioned towards himself.

Once Millicent was next to him, he carefully put his hands onto her shoulder and on her waist, looking slightly put off. Harry figured he was thinking about how weird it was to touch a student that way. “In same-sex partners, the taller one leads.” Snape told them idly as the girl settled into her own position. “The led partner does the same moves as the lead, only in reverse.”

Over in his seat, Harry ducked his head an resisted groaning. He was never going to lead. Damn the Dursleys for stunting his height.

Snape waved his hand, and a phonograph in the corner started to play something vaguely classical. The professor and Millicent moved across the dance floor, both of them clearly comfortable with the moves, the man commenting on tricky parts and various tips and facts the whole time.

As the dance progressed, Harry felt more and more awkward. Ask him to do anything at all in the air, and he could probably have it down by the end of the week. But this? He tripped over his own feet fairly regularly. How was he supposed to do a traditional dance? Maybe he could play sick?

Finally, the finished up, and Snape told them to split into pairs for practice. Instead of going for her boyfriend like Harry had thought she would, Pansy spared a quick nod for Blaise before attaching herself to Draco’s side and demanding that her boyfriend partner with Harry. To Harry’s surprise, he only nodded back and turned to him. “Want to partner?”

Before Harry could do more than blush a bit and start to stammer out a protest, Blaise had grabbed his wrist and pulled him out onto the floor. He settled his hands around the taller boy’s neck. Blaise’s hands found their way to a hand and waist respectively, and Harry couldn’t help blushing even darker at the touch. Having someone touch there was strangely personal.

With his help, Harry was slowly getting the idea. As they spun, he noticed Draco glaring at the pair of them, frown severe and disapproving, before he turned so his back was to them. Figuring the look was directed at him, Harry ducked his head, wondering what he’d done to piss of Draco _now_.

Eventually they ended up on the other side of the room, and Blaise arched an eyebrow, looking over Harry’s shoulder. “Ah, they finally got up the courage, then? About time. She’s only been obsessed for a month now.” Harry craned his neck around and blinked in surprise. 

Two girls were wrapped up in each other as they made their way around the room. As Harry watched, no one else even seemed to notice, much less care.

Something in him he hadn’t even realized was twisted up suddenly loosened, and Harry had to resist going limp.

When he turned back to Blaise, the other boy was smirking at him lightly, and Harry realized he’d pointed them out on purpose. The taller boy was kind enough to ignore his blush. “She’s the daughter of one of my Mother’s friends. They’ve been dancing around one another for ages. It’s been very frustrating.” The words had a sort of edge to them, but Harry couldn’t figure out why.

After a moment when he didn’t respond, Blaise just rolled his eyes and corrected Harry’s footing.

Finally, they were deemed ‘acceptable, but do not think you can go without practicing before the dance unless you _desire_ looking like a buffoon’. Harry tried to make his escape, but the professor beckoned him over.

Once he was in front of the man, Snape arched a dark eyebrow at him, looking almost amused. Harry had the bad feeling it was at his expense. “Mr. Potter. As one of the four champions, you will be required to start of the first dance with your partner. I trust you will be fully prepared, as the focus of the school will be on you.”

“ _What_?”

Snape raised his eyebrow in a ‘did I stutter?’ fashion, and Harry quickly backtracked. “I mean... Hogwarts already has a Champion. Surely I would be extraneous?” He tried to give Pansy’s winsome smile, but it fell far short.

To his surprise, Snape looked the closest to cracking up Harry had ever seen him. “I’m afraid not. Especially after you placed first in the task, and are the youngest of the Champions.” A spark of pride reflected out of his eyes, and Harry felt his resolve melt away. 

He really had no defense for that.

Instead Harry nodded, and made his excuses. Once he was past the door, he groaned and leaned his head against the wall.

Why did life hate him?

People were chattering as they talked about potential dance partners on their way to dinner. Harry just trudged along glumly and tried not to look put off. He smiled at the food for dinner - fish and chips. He hadn’t had it in ages! He doused everything in a good bit of pepper and vinegar before taking a satisfied bite. Pansy was chewing on some coleslaw as she leaned over the table to look at Millicent.

“Good job today! Any thoughts on who you’ll go to the dance with?”

Millicent paused in her eating. Honestly, she was one of the few people (aside from her sister of course) that Harry knew to eat everything with a knife and fork. Unless they were sandwiches. She chewed thoughtfully a moment and set her utensils down. She took a sip of ice water and set it on the table. Harry’s eyes drifted to Pansy who was practically vibrating in her seat. 

“I reckon I’ll take myself.”

Pansy sputtered in a rather undignified manner. “It’s a _Ball_! You can’t go alone!”

Millicent had already resumed eating and shot Pansy a look that clearly said ‘just watch me’. She swallowed and licked her lips. “I can and I will. I’m going to wear nice robes and do something with my hair and I’m going to go alone and I’ll have an amazing time with myself and then I’m going to go to bed.”

Pansy stared openly before her right eye began to twitch. “But... Who will you dance with?”

“I’m going to steal everyone’s date and break a million hearts and sleep satisfied in the knowledge that no one here is good enough for me.” She cut off Pansy’s squawking with a wave of her hand. “Shut up, Parkinson, I’m trying to eat.”

Pansy gaped for a long moment before looking over at Harry. “Some people have no sense of tradition.” She took a bite of her food. “Who are you going to take?”

“I’m thinking about pitching myself off the Astronomy Tower to keep from going.”

Blaise held in his laughter as Pansy flailed about. 

“That’s even worse than going alone! You’re a Champion! You need to go! It’s a rule or something.” 

Harry gave her a dry look. “I’m shocked you aren’t falling all over yourself to go with me. Isn’t this thing supposed to be very public?”

“Yes, but the Yule Ball is about _romance_ , and what kind of person would I be if I didn’t go with Blaise?”

Draco rolled his eyes and made a face. “Yourself?”

Harry choked on his water with he laughed and coughed into his hands. When he looked back at Draco, the blonde was eating and looking at a book he had with him, but a faint smile was on his face. 

“Well, we still have two weeks. I’m sure I’ll think of someone to ask by then.” Harry wondered about the idea of taking Cedric. Could two champions go together? He chewed on a chip and let out a wistful sigh. 

He’d think of something.

~*~

A week passed quickly and Harry was lounging in a hallway that overlooked the snow-filled courtyard lost in thought. He turned a page in his book and peered down at the words. He had been practicing his moves but without a date, knowing the moves seemed rather pointless. He was actually toying with the idea of asking Cedric. Or maybe just pleading with Millicent to be his date. He’d learn to lead. 

He scrubbed a hand over his face and moaned quietly. 

“Hey... Harry?”

Harry looked over at his hands towards the voice. Ron’s sister was standing there, looking at him with wide eyes. Harry stared at her, and motioned for her to speak. She just twitched in place and opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking like a nervous animal. 

“What is it?” Harry finally prompted. The question came out rather short. He was tired and frustrated with himself. The girl jumped a little and made a squeak. 

“I-I-I.... I should...”

“No, it’s alright. What can I help you with?”

“Well... Ron told me there’s a big Ball coming up and...”

“Yes?”

“I was just wondering... I mean... I understand if... But I thought maybe... You know only if you want to...”

Harry cocked a brow as he listened to her babble. What on earth was she trying to say? Honestly sometimes he thought girls needed a translator. Oh Merlin, she was still talking. 

“--I know you probably won’t but... and I know I’m a year younger than you... D’you...” Ginny stopped a moment and her mouth twisted up and she went still. She forced out a slow breath. “D’you maybe want to go to the Ball with me?”

Harry blinked rapidly and had to fight down the urge to laugh hysterically and scar the girl for life. Was she serious? It wasn’t even that she was a Weasley. Or that she was Ron’s sister. Or that she was a Gryffindor. It was just... He cleared his throat. 

“Oh, I’m sorry Ginny, I’ve already asked someone to the Ball and....”

Her face fell. “Oh. That’s alright then. It was just an idea... Rather foolish of me to think you didn’t have a date.” Harry could tell she was trying to seem unaffected. He tried to think. “You know... I heard a rumor that Neville likes you.” 

“Neville? Really?” Some light returned to her eyes. “Well, bully for you then, Harry Potter.” 

Harry watched as she turned and headed back down the hall. He smiled after her. Strong girl. He sighed as the feeling faded and he was reminded that he actually didn’t have a date. He shoved out of his seat and put his book in his bag. He pulled out his scarf and wrapped it around his neck. Fresh air would help him clear his head. Besides, he had a letter to send to Professor Lupin about something he had read in his Defensive magic book. 

He headed off to the owlery. 

He was lost in thought as he made his way up the steep, winding stairs towards the top of the tower. The wind was biting and he was sure he was turning pink with chill. He could barely feel his toes but his mind was clear. He stopped short at the sight of Cedric walking out of the owlery. He had a bright smile on his face and the rosiness in his cheeks from the cold actually looked attractive rather than splotchy.

“Oh, hey there Harry. Be careful with the steps; it’s icy at the top. I cast a warming charm to try and melt some of it but...”

Harry nodded his head. “Okay. Thanks.” Cedric walked past him and Harry opened his mouth. He was finally alone with him. He finally had the chance. “Hey, Cedric?”

Cedric turned. He rubbed his hands together in his gloves and blew on them. “Mmm?”

Harry watched him for a long moment. He wanted this, right? He could do this. But for some reason his mind kept thinking of Draco. His stomach clenched into knots. He swallowed and looked away. “Thanks for the warning about the steps. I wouldn’t be much of a Champion with a broken leg.”

Cedric laughed a little. “I’m sure Madame Pompfrey would have fixed you right up.” 

Harry rose a shoulder and watched as Cedric disappeared around a turn and headed into the owlery. He cursed when he hit the ice and smacked his knee on the hard stone. He watched Hedwig fly off into the greying sky and buried his face in his hands. 

~*~

Due to his detour to the owlrey, Harry was nearly late to Divination. He sat down heavily in the chair next Blaise, breathing heavily. Rather than greet the other boy, his green eyes stared into the fire, looking a thousand miles away.

“What’s with you?” Blaise asked him, glancing at him while pretending to look interested in what Trelawney was going on about.

For a moment, Harry didn’t respond. Finally, he frowned a bit and tore his gaze away from the flames, instead inspecting the table. “I saw Cedric at the owlrey.”

The other boy froze, expression carefully neutral. “Oh? And?”

Poking at a stain on the table, Harry frowned deeper. “I thought about asking him. But I couldn’t.”

Now Blaise’s still posture seemed almost taut, like he was about to spring out of his chair. “And why is that?”

At first Harry just shrugged, but the taller boy’s expression made it clear that was not an acceptable answer. “Because he’s straight, for one.” He paused, ignoring the sort of hollow feeling he got at that. “And... because all I could think about was Draco.”

He glanced away, expecting Blaise to be shocked or maybe derisive. But to his surprise, all he heard was a whispered, “Oh, thank _Merlin_!”

“What?” Harry turned to look at Blaise, who was wearing an undisguised look of relief.

Rather than answer, Blaise leaned back in his chair. He took a couple of deep breaths, calming himself. “If you had gone with Diggory... it would have been a bloodbath. Draco would have _killed_ him.”

Blinking at the boy, Harry tilted his head to the side. “Why?”

He got an incredulous stare for his words. “Are you really that dense?” He ignored Harry’s look of indignation. “Harry, think back. All those fights you’ve had with Draco this year. How did they start?”

Thinking back, Harry responded, “Uh... first, after I came back from the room after the thing with the Goblet, and then... with the _Prophet_ after the task... and he was glaring at me during the dance practice, but I don’t know if we were actually fighting then.” He paused, giving it more thought. “I think those were all the times it started. The rest of them were getting at each other because we were fighting. What about it?”

Blaise looked like he thought Harry was the dumbest person he’d ever seen. “And what do all of those things have in common?”

After a pause, Harry shrugged. “They all have to do with the Tournament?”

A grunt of pure exasperation escaped Blaise. “ _No_ , other than that.”

“I was... talking to other people at the time?” Blaise made a ‘go on’ gesture. “Well, Pansy was kissing me and we were dancing... but I was just talking to Cedric. He might have maybe patted me on the head or something, too. He’s very touchy.” Now the gesture was becoming frantic. “Draco doesn’t like people touching me? It’s not like I have a disease or something...”

Hands curling into claws of frustration, Blaise grit his teeth. “ _Harry_. It’s not about you touching them. It’s about them touching you. Stuff like kissing and dancing. Now _why_ would Draco have a problem with that?”

It took a long moment for it to click, and then Harry’s eyes widened with epiphany, before narrowing dangerously. “That’s not funny, Blaise.”

“No, it’s not! It’s bloody frustrating, that’s what it is!” He snapped back, gripping at the edge of the table. “Would you two _get your heads out of your arses_ and talk for two bloody minutes?”

Glancing away from Blaise, Harry crossed his arms. “Look, whatever sick joke you have going with Pansy isn’t going to work, okay? There’s no way Draco could... you know... want to... with me.”

Blaise met his eyes. “Why not?”

That made Harry pause, before he shrugged. “He’s... He’s Draco Malfoy, you know? No way. I’m just me, you know?”

Now Blaise’s expression became something serious and slightly sad. “You’re wrong, Harry. He likes you. He really does. For ages now.”

His shoulders lowered slowly, and Harry looked back at him. “Blaise, if you are playing a joke on me, I swear I will never forgive you.” His voice weakened with every word, and on the last it cracked just a bit.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and Blaise’s expression was warm but stern. “If I’m lying, or if Draco says no, you can cast any spell you like on me. I swear, Harry. Just _ask him_. Put us all out of our misery.”

With that the conversation died away, and they finally cast their attention back onto Trelawney, who at this point was so used to them doing their own thing that she didn’t even notice.

When class ended, they picked up their bags to leave. As they exited, Blaise spoke. “So, why didn’t you ask Diggory? Other than Draco, I mean. Since you didn’t get it...”

Shrugging, Harry shifted the weight of his bag and did not look at the other boy. “Besides Cedric being straight? Because... because it wouldn’t be the same, you know? It would be easy, and light, and all smiles and hugs. But it’d be shallow too. He’s attractive and nice, but he’s not someone special to me. That’s what Draco is.”

Neither of them said anything more as they made their way back down to the dungeons.


	9. Do You Like Me?  Check Yes or No

“Pansy, Pansy can I talk to you?”

Pansy looked up from her magazine towards Harry. “Hm?”

Harry looked around the room. “Alone?”

Pansy eyed him for a moment before nodding. They exited the Common Room and made their way towards a broom cupboard. They slipped inside and Pansy locked it and cast a silencing charm. 

“What’s the matter, Harry?”

“Well... I have a few questions.”

Pansy nodded and turned in place. She overturned an old barrel and sat on it. “Go ahead.”

Harry looked around before sitting on a few crates. “Um... Erm... How... How does one person traditionally go about asking another person out in Wizarding society? You know... In theory.”

Pansy’s brows shot up. “Well... That depends on your intention. There’s Courting, which ends in Bonding. It’s a promise of eternal devotion.”

“Yeah, not that one.”

“Well... Now most people just go on dates. Though there are some pureblooded families that pride traditional dating methods. Millicent’s family for one, or maybe Ron’s family, or Neville’s... Maybe your father’s too... I can definitely see Draco’s father pushing for it, but.... The Black family _definitely_ and likely a few others.”

“Okay. How does it work?”

“Well, usually one sends a letter to the other person’s parents about intentions to date. There’s usually talk of honour and purity and cherishing the other person. And if the family approves the person moves on to leaving a gift, usually something small - candy, flowers, sometimes letters... They do that for three days. And if the gifts are received with good intention on the fourth morning there’s a letter from the person asking to the intended to meet them in a public, but secluded area and there is traditionally a witness and the person asks and if everything goes to plan the intended says yes.” 

Harry nodded slowly, letting the knowledge sink in. “And who does the witness have to be?”

“Usually it’s someone who knows both people well. A friend or an older member of the family.”

Harry nodded again. 

“If you’re intending to ask anyone I’ll gladly be your witness.” Pansy’s voice was soft, and oddly sincere. 

“I’ll think about it.” Harry bit his lip and then looked back to Pansy and gave her a grin. “Now, can I see the pool on who I’m taking to the Ball?”

Pansy’s face broke out into a grin and she pulled out a battered piece of parchment. “I’m running this with those two boys from Gryffindor. Thomas and Finnegan. They’re wonderful for things like this... They’re holding the money and I’m running the bets. It’s all very exciting.” She smoothed the parchment out on her knees. “Five to one you’ll ask Cedric. Three to one you’ll ask me. Four to one you’ll ask Weasley.” 

Harry plucked up the paper and looked at the stats. There were a few others on the list. Hermione, Neville, Blaise... he skimmed the list. “Put me down for taking Ginny Weasley.”

Pansy made a quiet noise and pulled over the list. “Any particular reason why?”

“Gotta keep people guessing, don’t I?”

Pansy nodded her head. “By the way, Harry. If you’re going to ask Draco traditionally, you’d better get on it. You have six days.”

Harry didn’t bother acting surprised or abhorred, he just calmly unspelled the door and opened it. “I know. And don’t tell Blaise. I figure you’re the one on the list rooting for me and Draco. Throw him off my trail. I want half the gold you win.”

Pansy smirked up at him impishly and sprang from her seat to wrap her arms around Harry. “I knew there was a reason the Hat put you in this House.”

Harry hugged her back softly. “You’ll look over my letter?”

“Of course.”

Harry nodded his head and made his way towards Snape’s office. He had a favour to ask.

Upon arriving at the door, Harry hesitated for only a moment before knocking quietly. There was the sound of rusting paper and something being put down, and then the door opened. Snape arched an eyebrow down at him, looking surprised to see him. “Do you need a calender to go with your alarm clock, Mr. Potter?”

Grinning sheepishly, Harry shook his head. “No, sir. Could I ask you something?”

The man eyed him for a moment before stepping back and letting Harry in. The desk had a huge tomb on it, explaining the rustling noises. Snape closed the door and then stared at him expectantly. Clearing his throat nervously, Harry kept his eyes on the desk. “Would you mind very much if I asked you a favor?”

Sending the boy a dry expression, Snape crossed his arms and tapped a finger against his upper arm. “That would depend entirely on the favor.”

After a moment of pause, Harry met the man’s eyes, eyes wide with something akin to desperation. “Would you teach me how to dance, Severus?”

That look of dark amusement slowly bloomed in the professor’s eyes. “I believe I recently did just that. Your favor has been fulfilled. Sometimes I impress even myself.”

It took a moment for Harry to register that _Severus Snape_ had just told a _joke_. A half hysterical chuckle escaped him. “I mean dance well. You know, not stumble across the floor like my feet have been switched.”

His lip twitching, Snape eyed him. “Ah. A challenge, then. Fortunately for you, I enjoy those. May I ask your reasoning for this turnabout? When we last spoke, I believe you were contemplating suicide rather than be forced to dance.”

Harry swallowed. “I was... thinking about asking Draco. He’d be an arse about it if I messed up while dancing with him. So this is a precautionary measure.”

The amusement in those eyes became more obvious, and Snape tilted his head. “Oh, I suppose I no longer have to ask you to see Madame Pomfrey.” At Harry’s odd look, he continued. “I was beginning to fear that you had gone blind.”

Ignoring the way Harry sputtered at that, Snape turned and went to the door to his quarters, holding it open for the boy to follow. “I believe music would be helpful in this endeavor.”

Feeling vaguely like he had just signed his own death warrant, Harry obediently made his way through the door.

The next hour and a half was spent with Snape making Harry repeat the steps over and over, first on his own, and then with the professor leading. Every time Harry missed a step or held himself wrong, Snape snapped at him like a Muggle Drill Sargent. 

When it was finally over, Harry’s arms hurt from holding them up for so long. And that wasn’t even going into how his legs felt. But his dancing had shown a marked improvement. A couple more sessions and he’d be at least good enough to prevent Draco from criticising.

Maybe. He hoped.

Instead of heading to the dorms, he made his way up to the owlrey. Wishing he hadn’t sent off Hedwig that morning, he picked out the nicest looking of the school owls and spent a few minutes writing out as well-spoken a letter of intent he could manage, he was too nervous to show Pansy, and sent it off to Malfoy Manor.

A small part of him worried at what would happen if Lucius or Narcissa forbid him from continuing his pursuit, but shrugged it off. It was out of his hands.

Picking out another set of owls, he set them off with notes and a few galleons to make some purchase orders.

Then all that was left to do was wait.

~*~

_Harry,_

_You have the full support of Lucius and myself in your endeavours of wooing Draco. Personally I myself was concerned this day would never come. As they say love is blind to those who are in it, so it does not surprise me you could not see Draco’s reverent attempts of garnering your attention as love. Please do remember Draco is allergic to strawberries and do not attempt them in any gift giving as it would not endear him to you. Furthermore, while he may put up a front, Draco does love flowers. Orchids are his favourite._

_Wishing you well._

_Narcissa (and Lucius) Malfoy. Transcribed by Quick Quotes Quill, December the Nineteenth, Nineteen-Ninety-Four._

“Oi, Draco’s got chocolate!” Someone from down the table called.

Harry carefully but hurriedly folded up the letter and shoved it into his trouser pockets and looked towards Draco. Draco had unwrapped the paper which was light blue (as per Pansy’s rather hurried instructions he had been told was the appropriate intended colour), to reveal the expensive truffle chocolates. The blonde’s face was surprisingly neutral as he turned the box over in his hands and opened the small envelope that had been attached to the parcel. 

“Does it say who it’s from?” 

Draco shook his head at Blaise’s question. “And it’s transcribed from a quill to mask handwriting. Whoever did this is covering their tracks.”

Harry managed to hide the jump and noise of pain that came from Pansy digging her nails into his knee. 

Her face was surprisingly calm. “Well... That’s... _different_.”

Draco nodded absently. “Well if the person’s already giving gifts that means they’ve been approved by my parents, but...”

“But who?” 

“Very astute, Zabini,” Millicent drawled, plucking the note from Draco’s hand and skimming it. “They’re of limited words, aren’t they? Still... Approved by your parents, that’s a feat. I’d say go for it.”

Draco tucked the chocolates away safely under the table and turned his attention back to his breakfast. “I’ll definitely think about it.”

~~*~

By the middle of the second day all of Slytherin, half of Ravenclaw and a good chunk of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were talking about Draco. Harry was constantly flipping between being proud of himself and feeling like he was going to vomit. Everyone in Slytherin was talking about how the gift that morning - flowers - had been left at Draco’s bedside and how that was not only very forward which implied the intended knew Draco personally, but also that the intended was in their House. 

The flowers also hadn’t come with a note.

However Blaise had studied them and noted there were orchids, orange lilies, daffodils, and white carnations. He had then prattled off their meanings refined beauty, passion, chivalry and respect, and pure love. Most people ignored him, figuring that the person who had sent them was merely sending them because they were pretty. Pansy, however, loudly pointed out that Draco’s favourite flower was the orchid and that the daffodil was from the Narcissus family. Harry spent the time of their ensuing argument hiding his smile behind his book and ignore the looks, which were rather pointed. 

Instead Harry focused on his book and thought about how both Blaise and Pansy’s theories were right and how grateful he was that Pansy had ignored the fact that his mother’s name was Lily. Something Blaise, in his wild rantings, had completely glossed over. 

After dinner Harry headed to Snape’s office for his last dance lesson. Fully prepared for the assault that his feet would go through. Especially since Snape had demanded he wear his dragon hide shoes. 

They still needed to be broken in and pinched his toes. 

He just had to remember he was doing this for Draco.

~*~

By the end of the third day Blaise was going insane. Draco, who was reading his new book of poetry looked rather serene laid out in bed as well as amused by Blaise’s antics. 

“You know who it is, don’t you?”

“I have a suspicion.”

“Who?”

“Xenidris Ullbeck.”

“The _Ravenclaw_?!”

“Yes. Her father and mine are old friends, remember?”

“I do but...”

“Well, it seems her father no doubt prompted her into wooing me.”

“But --”

“It doesn’t mean I’m going to to accept.”

“ _But_ \--”

“Honestly, Blaise I don’t know why you’re taking such an interest in this.” Blaise gaped at Draco who looked over the book at him. “Besides, Xenidris knows I like orchids. Her grandmother grew them and she used to give them to me.”

Blaise turned and looked at Harry. “You know Draco likes orchids, don’t you?”

Harry looked up from his Astronomy homework. “I do now. If you’re shouting is going to continue much longer I’d like to know. This has to be handed in tomorrow.” Harry turned his eyes back to his homework. 

Blaise twitched violently and clenched his fists. “I’m going for a walk.”

Daphne Greengrass paused at the door when Blaise stormed out and looked after him. “What’s his problem?”

Harry looked over at her and shrugged. “Dunno. Lookin’ for Nott?”

“Yeah. He said he’d help me with Runes.” Daphne draped over Nott’s bed and toyed with her hair. “Know where he is?”

Draco shook his head. “I saw him at dinner.”

Daphne rolled onto her stomach and kicked up her legs. “Is that the latest gift from your secret someone?”

Draco peered over the book and looked at her before nodding. “Yeah. I’m actually really enjoying it.”

“Can I see?”

Draco marked his page before handing her the book. She took it and turned it over in her hands. It was quite a thick, large book, that looked rather like a dictionary. She tapped her finger on the hard cover and examined the title. “The Complete Works of W.B. Yeats.” She stared at the name. “I’ve never heard of him. Is he an American wizard?”

“He’s a Muggle,” Draco informed her in a low drawl. “Irish-English.” 

Daphne’s lip curled unattractively at the cover and she held the book back out for Draco. “I never would have pegged you as liking Muggle work.”

Draco rose a shoulder in a shrug. “Some of the things they do fascinate me and are beautiful. You can’t fault me for liking their art.”

Daphne opened her mouth to retort that oh yes she could, but she was cut off by Nott entering the room. She sat up and smiled at him brightly. “I’m ready for my Runes lesson.”

Behind his Astronomy textbook Harry blanched. He peered over and watched as she scooted over on the bed and Nott moved beside her. The two quietly began working and Harry’s eyes drifted over to Draco, who was once again reading. 

~*~

Harry paced. He and Pansy had picked a small area just beyond the Slytherin area of the courtyard for Draco to meet him just before lunch. He was nervous. 

“Are you going to stop that infernal pacing? You’re going to bore a hole in the earth.”

“What if he says no, Pans?” 

“He’s not going to say no, you twit.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I do.”

Harry stopped in his pacing as he heard snow crunching and felt a new wave of nausea hit him. The walking stopped just on the other side of the hedge and Harry froze. He heard quiet mumbling in Draco’s voice and felt his heart pound. Was Draco giving himself a pep talk? That actually made him feel loads better. 

Finally Draco rounded the hedge. He looked oddly calm. Pansy was jumping up and down in place, her shocking neon orange scarf-mitten-hat set with pink trim was nearly blinding as she wildly gestured to Harry as if presenting a showcase. Harry for the most part, sort of just stared at Draco. 

Finally Draco broke the silence. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Finally caught on did you?”

Harry flushed and shifted in place. “I thought you wouldn’t like me back.”

“Because I never let on before, clearly.”

“I thought you were just being friendly.”

Draco’s brow rose and his lips twitched and he let out a laugh. “Idiot.”

“Wanker.”

“Tosser.”

“Git.”

Draco sniffed softly in the cold. “I’m sorry I was such an arse about the whole Diggory thing. I was jealous.”

“I’m sorry I was a blind dolt who pined after a straight sixth year Hufflepuff.”

“Damn right you were a blind dolt.”

Harry shifted in place. “Do you want to go to the Ball with me?”

Draco’s face broke into one of his rare, wide smiles and he ducked his head. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Harry grinned and then looked to Pansy, who was watching them with starry eyes. She shook her head when she realized she was being watched. “Oh. Now you take his left wrist with your right hand and he grabs your wrist...”

They moved towards each other and did as they were told and Pansy placed her mittened hands over their arms. “Draco Malfoy do you accept Harry Potter’s intentions of wooing and accept the offer to attend the Yule Ball with him?”

“I do.”

“Harry Potter do you promise to honour your words to Draco Malfoy’s parents and uphold his honour as well as your own and fulfill the request to attend the Yule Ball with him?”

“I do.”

“Wonderful, now can we get inside before my toes snap off my feet?”

Harry laughed as he and Draco followed after Pansy. He felt lighter than he had in months.

~*~

Despite the new dynamic between Harry and Draco, life continued at a remarkably normal manner. The Yule Ball was just a couple days away, and so it wasn’t really enough time for them to do more than get used to the idea that they were _dating_. And then Pansy had begged them not to say anything, because wouldn’t it be so much more dramatic and romantic if they built up the suspense? 

It really didn’t take much to make them cave into the idea. The drama of it appealed to Draco, and for Harry it meant that he didn’t actually have to tell anyone himself. They’d figure it out when they saw them. It was win-win.

At the moment, the three of them were in that unused classroom down the hall, trying to figure out the egg. Harry had already opened it one evening prior, and had dropped the thing in shock. It took five minutes to finally get it, and Blaise had spent the entire time cursing at him.

They tried a variety of spells on it, but nothing seemed to be working. “How are we supposed to know what to do with this?” Harry snapped, shaking the egg in frustration.

“There has to be some sort of clue on how to deal with it.” Draco insisted, taking it away from Harry before he broke it. Their fingers brushed slightly, and both went a delicate shade of pink.

Rolling her eyes at them, Pansy leaned back against the wall, twirling her wand between her fingers. “Well, you got it from a dragon. So maybe it has something to do with Care of Magical Creatures?”

Harry thought about it for a moment. “Maybe whatever creature can make a sound like this is what we have to face next?” He went pale. “Could it be banshees? That would be awful. And hard to make into a spectator sport.”

The golden egg reflected oddly coloured light onto Draco’s face, and Harry watched for a moment before turning away to re-apply the silencing charms to the door. “I don’t think it’s a banshee cry. And they probably wouldn’t do two creature challenges in a row. After the dragons, everything would look unimpressive.” 

Nodding, Pansy shrugged. “You’ve got time to deal with this. Can we go? I have better things to do, like look up cosmetic charms. Or snog my boyfriend.” 

A snort came from Draco. “Please. I’m sure you already know more cosmetic charms than the rest of the girls in Slytherin combined. And you snog Blaise plenty already. You’d better slow down before you kiss so much your lips fall off.”

“But what a way to lose them.” She smirked. “And you’re wrong. Greengrass is the one who knows more cosmetic charms than anyone, and I’ll be damned if I have to ask her.” Kicking back with her heel, Pansy started creating a beat of dull thumps. “I’m bored. This is boring. And annoying.”

Harry huffed. “I just want to have time to prepare, is all.” He looked at the egg, which glimmered almost malevolently. “But maybe a break is a good idea. It’s almost lunch anyway.”

The three of the cancelled the charm and slipped out the door. Draco spun the egg idly in his hands. “Maybe there’s a secret message in there? Something hidden in the noise.”

“I don’t that racket can be anything useful.” Pansy replied disdainfully. “It’s the worst sound I’ve ever heard, and I’ve been near you in the morning, Draco.”

The blonde lunged at her, and Pansy dodged with a shriek. She practically screamed the password (“Horklump Juice!”) and jumped onto the lap of Blaise, who had been sitting comfortably on one of the couches. “You’ll protect me, won’t you?” She asked, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Blaise returned her gaze with a dry look. “That depends. What did you do?”

While Pansy pouted, Harry chuckled and responded, “She compared Draco’s morning persona with the egg noise.”

At that, Blaise pushed the girl off his lap towards her friends. “You deserve it, then.”

His girlfriend made an indignant huff, Millicent, who was sitting across from Blaise with a book in her lap, snorted. “Looks like someone won’t be getting any tonight. Better make it up to her at the Ball if you want to keep your own from getting blue.” Pansy made another, louder noise, and Blaise threw a pillow at the other girl on her behalf.

Draco eyed Harry, fighting to keep a grin off his face. “Shall we ignore these uncouth peons and put this away?”

“Let’s.” Harry responded, and the two of them walked away with exaggerated swagger.

Before they could make it to the stairs they were hit with a rain of pillows.


	10. Two to Tango

It had finally arrived. It was the day of the Ball, and people were bustling about getting last minute necessities, or making plans. Dinner was served early and had been an absolute zoo, complete with Blaise screeching at Draco and Harry and interrogating them about who they were taking. Both boys responded with their rehearsed answers - Draco was taking Xeidris and Harry was going stag. Blaise looked about ready to wring both their necks. 

After dinner Seamus and Dean spent a long time on the stairs barking out calls for bets. Any and all attempts at stopping them failed and Harry was amused to learn that a few teachers had even cast their lot in. Most notably Trelawney, who had seemed to have a vision that Harry was taking Fleur Delacour. The new pairing erupted and people jumped on betting for the two of them. 

Harry was sprawled on Pansy’s bed, watching her upside down as she secured pins and rollers and bits of things to her hair. She was lounging around in a night dress but fiddling with her cosmetics and hair. Her dress, which Harry personally found stunning, was a family heirloom. It was from one of her aunts who had moved to America. It was what Pansy called a “Civil War” dress. Harry had no idea what that meant, but it was pretty. It had many layers and was covered by something called a brocade which was a light sea green. There was lace around the neckline and the arms and at the bottom of the skirt. It also had lots and lots of puffy white underskirts and came with something called a crinoline. 

All Harry knew was that it looked like torture to get into. Next to his hip was a corset which apparently Millicent was going to help Pansy into later. He had made a face and decided that being a girl was definitely too much trouble. He was glad he was a boy. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

Harry stole a look at the clock in the corner of the room. “There’s still two hours left.”

Pansy turned to look at Harry. “An hour and a half, did you forget you need to get there half an hour early?”

“I’ve got it covered.”

“So you’ve taken your shower?”

“Well... no the girls took over the bathroom... Both bathrooms!”

“Then do what Blaise did and use the locker room for Quidditch.”

Harry made a face. “I took a shower last night. I don’t need one.”

“Take a shower. You don’t want to wear your new dress robes dirty. Where are they anyway?”

“On my bed.”

“Did you even unwrap them?”

“No.”

Pansy whirled from her place in front of the mirror. Half her face was made up and the other half wasn’t. “Harry you get off your duff and go get ready.”

“I don’t want to risk running into Draco. We wanted to surprise each other when we met in the Great Hall.”

“I’ll get your things.”

With that Pansy stalked out of the room and Harry rolled his eyes. He sat up when someone walked in and it took a long minute of staring before he realized it was Millicent. She looked so different, almost soft. Her dress was off the shoulder, and a deep red. It was tight around her ample bust line and then flowed outward. It had soft embellishments on the skirt as well as a few along her bust. Her normally wild, un-tamable hair was subdued and sleek. She had combed it back and bound it in place with a clip and swept it over one shoulder. 

Harry stared.

“Can I help you with something, Potter?”

Harry shook his head and watched as she moved across the room and pulled out a pair of dark leather ankle high boots with a heel and slid them on her stockinged feet. Harry gulped. If everyone looked that good he was doomed. Pansy walked back in, his robes tucked under one arm and she grinned at him. She also held up his boots. 

“Why don’t you see if you can change in Gryffindor?”

Harry took the wrapped box with a nod. “Okay.”

Pansy smiled at him. “Just remember, this is all going to be worth it. _Trust me_!”

Before Harry could respond the door slammed shut and he headed out of the Common Room and up the long trek towards Gryffindor. He managed to catch up with the twins who had been helping set up and they let him in. He spotted Ron sitting in the corner by the fire moaning softly and poking at a lump of something. The room looked like a yarn factory exploded.

“What happened?”

“Don’t ask. It’s Hermione’s new crusade.” Ron stood and picked up whatever he had been poking at. “What brings you up here?”

“Slytherin girls have taken over. Mind if I use your showers and dorm to get ready?” 

“Nah. C’mon, I’ll take you up.” 

When Harry entered the dorm he saw Neville, already dressed in his robes and dancing to music he was humming in the corner. Harry watched him. He was good. As good as Blaise. Seamus and Dean were half-dressed, sprawled on a bed with a box of galleons and sickles in front of them and the battered parchment Pansy had been holding onto. Both of them were grinning widely. 

“How’s the score?”

“In total? Highest right now is1/15 to one you’re taking Fleur. And lowest is 1/2 you’re taking Malfoy.” 

Harry snorted and the two of them grinned up at him. 

Dean shifted back against the pillows. “What brings you here anyway?”

“The mob of girls that took over Slytherin’s bathrooms. I’d just change in the girl’s rooms but Pansy demands I take a shower.” 

“What d’you mean change in the girls rooms? You don’t have wards?” Ron asked. 

“No. Why, do you?” The three boys nodded and Harry shrugged. “Guess they figure there’s no point in trying to stop the inevitable.”

Seamus laughed. “Go ahead and take your shower, mate. You look a little tense, maybe you ought to...” Seamus made a gesture with his hand and Harry rolled his eyes and held up two fingers in retort. 

“I’m not wanking in the Lion’s Den.”

“Suit yourself. Go and be as tense as you want. You’re a Champion, Harry, people are gonna be gawking at you all night, if I was you, I’d rather they do it and I not look like I’ve got my knickers in the most painful knot.”

“I do not look like that!”

Ron looked up from the battered silk-lace-something on his bed. “You kinda do.”

Harry gave them the two fingered salute once more before walking into the bathroom and shutting the door. He set his things down carefully before stripping and stepping into the showers. The cubicles were slightly smaller than Slytherin’s but not so much it was oppressive. He turned on the shower and let the hot water beat down on him. Now that the others pointed it out, Harry realized he was rather tense. What with having to dance in front of the entire school plus two other visiting schools as well as no doubt the _Prophet_ and come out saying he liked blokes? Not to mention he was trying to impress Draco so there was a whole other layer to it... 

Harry scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned in frustration. He bit his lip and braced his back against the cold tile of the shower and let his hands wander. 

~*~

“Seamus!” Harry poked his head out of the bathroom door, which was cracked open. He was half dressed in his trousers and under shirt. The under robe and over robe were hanging on a hook by the door. 

“Yeah?”

“Have you got any hair gel?” Harry knew Seamus was a half-blood and that asking him was a better shot than Neville or Ron. 

“I do!” Came Dean’s reply before Seamus could answer and Harry exited the bathroom. 

Harry watched as Dean draped himself over Seamus’ body and pulled something out from under the bed. As Dean rummaged through his things Seamus ran an idle hand over his back while reading the Prophet. The gesture was so relaxed and familiar Harry wondered if the two of them were together. He caught the gel Dean lobbed at him along with a comb and toted the two up in thanks before heading back into the bathroom. 

Thankfully Pansy had also grabbed his toothbrush and Harry brushed his teeth lazily while toying with the locket he had put on and tucked under his shirt that morning. The weight was comforting and the cool metal was soothing. He rinsed his mouth and put his toothbrush aside before working in a small amount of gel in his hair before combing it. He dried his hair with a quick flick of his wand and made sure it fell in place the way he liked. Once that was done he flicked his wand and sent his toothbrush (hopefully) back to his things in the dungeons. 

He pulled on the grey vest and buttoned it carefully before he pulled on the tie. It was silk which made knotting it a bit slippery but he managed to do it and tucked it under the vest before pulling on the over-robe which fell easily about his shoulders and down to his ankles. He patted the pocket of the robe which held the clasp. He’d put it on downstairs. With that he exited the bathroom.

Seamus gave a wolf-whistle and Dean a catcall. Harry flushed softly and looked down at himself. “Yeah?”

“Stunning, really.” Seamus nodded in approval. “Even if they are Slytherin colours.”

“I look good in green!” Harry shot back defensively. “Matches my eyes.” Harry turned to look at Ron, who was shifting anxiously in front of the mirror. Harry tried not to laugh at Ron’s dress robes which looked old and weathered. They were made up of lace and some old material. “Well, those are... traditional.”

Ron turned and Harry tried not to cringe. The front was worse than the back. “Murder me, Harry.” 

“I don’t think your date would appreciate it very much. Speaking of, who are you taking?”

“Padma Patil. I think her sister got her to go with me as a pity date.” Ron looked down at himself and then back up. “Kill me now.”

“Maybe if we got rid of the lace...” Harry walked closer to Ron and sheered off the lace with a quick spell. “There, that’s better.” 

Ron managed a weak smile. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” Harry sat down on the nearest bed and pulled on his dragon hide boots and laced them up tightly. He stood and took a cursory look at himself in the mirror before nodding. He looked the best he could without miraculous intervention. “I’ll see you guys downstairs.”

“Cheers, Harry.” Dean called. 

Harry turned when he reached the door. “Get ready to be rolling in money.”

Seamus laughed and took one last look at the list. “You going to shock us all, Harry?”

Harry grinned and made a zipping motion across his lips before walking down the spiral staircase and out the portrait hole. He hummed as he made his way towards the Great Hall. As nervous as he was, he was also in an amazing mood. He took a breath when he was at the top of the Grand Staircase and then headed down it. He jumped the trick step and landed at the bottom and made the turn towards the doors entering the Hall. 

He spotted Krum and Cedric off in the corner. Krum’s date hadn’t arrived yet and Cedric was talking to an Asian girl in flowing robes. The Ravenclaw seeker, if he wasn’t mistaken. Chang. She was pretty and Harry would be lying to himself if he didn’t think Cedric looked dashing. He moved towards them, but still at a respectable distance and watched as several people filtered into the Hall. Fleur arrived not long after with her date on her arm and they were talking softly in French. 

Harry played nervously with the clasp before finally pinning it on his robes. He waved when he saw Ron walk past with his date and he grinned when Dean walked in but Seamus lingered for a moment. 

“Into the Hall with you, Finnegan. You’ll find out when everyone else does.”

Seamus shot him a look but walked into the Hall anyway, muttering quietly about Slytherins. 

Harry spotted Pansy and Blaise. Blaise looked very sleek in his dark dress robes beside Pansy’s chic, old fashioned dress. Blaise’s neck craned for any sign of Harry’s date and Pansy prodded him past the door before giving Harry a smile and a thumbs up and slipping inside herself. 

“It seems everyone’s anxious with anticipation for who you’re taking.” 

Harry turned at Hermione’s voice and watched as Krum made his way to the stairs. Harry smiled, happy for her. She looked lovely in her periwinkle dress and her bushy hair sleeked down and pinned back in a fancy style. 

“Well most of them are going to have Kneazles, I think.”

“Oh? Well if even Zabini doesn’t know, I’m sure it’s going to be well worth the surprise.”

Harry watched as she and Krum joined the other two Champion couples by the door and he looked at the large clock over the entrance way. Five minutes to go... Leave it to Draco to wait for the last minute. He chewed on his lip and watched the clock.

 _Hurry up, Draco_!

Just as the door started to creak open Draco came into the hallway and took his place next to Harry. “Where were you?” Harry whispered harshly, grabbing onto the blonde’s arm.

“Well, I couldn’t let them see me, could I?” He smirked and slipped his arm out of Harry’s grip to wrap it around his waist. “Let’s not leave our public waiting, then.”

As the pair in front of him (Fleur and an upper year from Hogwarts. Davvey? Davis?) got out of their way, Harry and Draco exchanged looks before following.

At first, there had been quiet murmurings from around the hall, as the gathered students and staff watched the show the Champions made. When Harry and Draco were spotted, silence fell over the room in a wave.

Scanning the crowd, he saw Pansy looking smug, Ron and Neville looking pleased and eyeing Dean and Seamus, and Millicent looking utterly apathetic. But the real show was Blaise, who went as pale as his dark skin would let him, before his face twisted into some mix of rage, frustration, and betrayal. He opened his mouth, looking like he was about the scream, but Pansy slapped a hand over his mouth. Clearly, the sanctity of the opening dance was paramount to her.

Before he could fight off her hand, the music started, and the four pairs began to dance. Harry didn’t have Draco’s natural grace and years of work behind him, but he was able to keep up. Almost better than expected - the pressure of all those eyes and _Draco_ keeping him alert. Grey eyes widened in surprise and then shined with pleasure.

Harry thought that all those torturous hours with Snape had been worth it.

As he spun, Harry caught fleeting glances of the other Champions and their partners. Hermione was grinning widely as Krum spun her, and Fleur was wrinkling her nose at Dav-something, who kept stepping on her toes as he gazed at her with heat in his eyes. For a moment he and Cedric locked eyes, and the blonde gave him a proud looking grin. Harry returned it, glancing quickly at Chang, before turning back to Draco.

The Malfoy heir’s eyes were slightly narrowed as he looked down at Harry, and instead of protesting of defending himself, Harry leaned forward and rested his head on the junction between his neck and shoulder. 

Actions spoke louder than words, after all.

This seemed to calm Draco, and the two of them fell into their own world, created by the soft music and the warmth where their hands connected.

Eventually, the song came to a close, and Harry realized with a start that they had been joined by a number of other partners on the floor. Pansy directed herself and Blaise towards them, the boy still glaring. “You wankers!” He hissed as he passed, voice oddly distorted by the way he twirled as he passed. “You couldn’t have told me?”

“What fun would that be?” Draco returned, arching an eyebrow at him.

A choked sound escaped him. “Fun? You think this was _fun_? First I have to watch you two dance around each other for over a year, and now you had me pulling out my hair over this stupid Ball?”

Harry looked over at Pansy, who was looking just a bit to smug at her boyfriend’s emotional turmoil. “It was Pansy’s idea, you know.” He smirked at her shocked expression and directed him and Draco away while Blaise whirled on the girl.

“What?”  
When he looked away from the two, Draco was eyeing him appreciatively. “I like it when you get all devious.”

Blushing, Harry looked down at their slowly moving feet. “Thanks.”

Eventually they decided to take a break and grabbed a couple of drinks before finding a table to settle down at. Pansy and Blaise were still dancing, and Millicent looked like she was currently between partners, eyes darting between a few people she wanted to drag away from their dates. Harry thought she’d go for Nott next. She didn’t like the boy, but she really disliked Daphne, and stealing the girl’s date would be the high point of Millicent’s night.

He looked back at Draco, and saw the other boy staring at him. “What?”

Draco smirked back. “Am I not allowed to enjoy the sight of my boyfriend looking dressed up and very nice?”

“You enjoy saying that, don’t you?”

“What, boyfriend?” Harry nodded. “As a matter of fact I do. I’ve been waiting to say it for ages now.”

Slinking down a bit in his chair, the shorter boy frowned at his cup. “Sorry for being so dense about it.”

A snort came from Draco. “I suppose I’m used to it by now. I’ve stuck around so far, haven’t I?”

Smiling, Harry met his eyes. “Yeah, you have.”

Before Draco could reply to that heavy statement, Seamus and Dean came up on either side of Harry. “Thanks, mate! If you’d have taken Fleur, we’d have been in a right state.”

“You weren’t in much danger of that, I promise.” Harry grumbled, and the two boys laughed.

Seamus slapped him on the back. “Either way, we made a mint, so thanks. Now, enjoy your date!” He waggled his eyebrows, and the three other boys rolled their eyes at him.

Pushing at his friend’s back, Dean coughed and lead him away. “C’mon, Seamus, before you get too embarrassing to acknowledge.”

Watching them leave, Draco snorted. “You know, they might be worse that us.”

“Nah. I think we were kind of awful.”

“Fair enough.” 

Pansy sunk down next to Harry, her breath coming short and quick but she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I’m so proud of you!”

Harry pushed her off and wiped his cheek. “I didn’t do this for you.”

“I know, but think about the gold you’re going to be getting.”

Harry mused on her words before taking a drink from Blaise as he returned with four brimming cups of cider. He took a sip and let himself fall easily against Draco, his head resting on the blonde’s shoulder. Harry smiled when he felt Draco shift a bit and rest his cheek atop his head. 

“So it was you sending Draco the gifts then?”

“No, Blaise, it was the other Harry Potter.”

Blaise frowned at him before taking a sip of his drink. “You two aren’t going to turn into disgusting, mooning puppies are you?”

Draco snorted and set his drink aside. He watched Millicent bully Nott from Daphne with amusement. “Because that’s _exactly_ what you and Pansy did. Turned into dopey, grinning idiots. All you two do is fight more and snog.”

“Well hopefully we won’t be snogging every three minutes,” Harry murmured, his thumb skimming over the back of Draco’s hand. They were resting their hands side by side, but not holding them, it was comforting while being familiar. “I have a Triwizard Tournament to win.”

Draco hummed and smiled faintly. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll hold off on the snogging until you win. It’ll be your personal reward for victory.” 

“What happens if I don’t win?”

“Were you planning on losing?”

“No.”

“Then stop talking rubbish.”

They sat in silence listening to the music before Millicent walked over. She ran her eyes over everyone before holding her hand out in front of Harry’s nose. Harry stared at it for a long moment. 

“I can’t lead.”

“I don’t follow.” 

Harry opened his mouth to protest before Draco elbowed him up and he took Millicent’s hand. He shot a pleading look back at the group as he was half-dragged onto the dance floor and his hand was firmly placed on Millicent’s shoulder while hers settled on his waist. It was strange but also fun. She was a strong leader and Harry found himself easily falling into step with her. 

He had just turned outward when the music stopped and he gently released Millicent’s hand. The couples turned towards the stage where the band had left and now a new group was setting up. Harry squinted at them. They looked familiar. 

“I can’t believe it!” Harry turned at the cry, it was a girl he didn’t recognize her. “They actually got them to come! It’s the Weird Sisters!”

Harry stared up at the stage for a moment then looked to Millicent. She had already moved from his side and was elbowing her way through the group of people who had gathered in front of the stage. It was quite a sight to see her all dressed up and all but tackling people out of the way as she made her way as close to the stage as she could. Harry turned and made his way back to the table the others were sitting at. 

Blaise and Pansy were out of their seats but not near the stage as they danced. Harry watched them before unclasping his outer robe and shrugging it off. It was far too hot for the thick material. He turned to Draco and ducked his head when he realized the other boy was tracking his movement. 

“Looks like they’re having fun. Want to join them?”

Draco gave a half nod and stood, he mimicked Harry and removed his over-robe. Harry couldn’t help but followed the movement as Draco draped the robe over his chair. Harry pinked a little before looking interestedly at an icicle hanging off the ceiling just above him. He jerked when he felt a hand on his arm before smiling and let Draco take his hands and lead him back to the dance floor. 

The first few songs were fast and jumpy and they, along with a few others who had sense enough not to go in the crush near the stage danced about. However, after a bit one of their ballads came on and Harry was surprised at how easily he fell against Draco. How almost unconscious it was to tuck himself against the Malfoy, and how effortlessly they fit together. Draco was just the right height taller than him that Harry could tuck his head into his shoulder without ducking or craning, he just slotted into place perfectly. 

When they parted to lazily spin, Harry stopped when he saw Draco looking at him. Harry nervously touched at his face and looked down at his robes. Draco shook his head and hooked his finger into the chain about his neck holding the locket. Harry looked down at it and bit his lip. He had forgotten that he had it on. 

He dared at look at Draco. Draco smiled softly and slid both arms casually around his shoulders before pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “Idiot.”

Harry sifted his fingers through Draco’s hair as he tucked against his neck and closed his eyes. “Wanker.”

They remained together, sway almost motionlessly to the music. Finally Draco drew back when one of their faster songs came on. “Want to get some air?” 

Harry nodded his head and they made their way back to the table to get their heavy robes so they could at least brave some of the cold. 

Once they were nice and bundled up, Draco grabbed Harry’s hand and they headed out into the courtyard. It was filled with roses, and fairy lights twirled between the flowers. Paths, decorated with benches and statues, wound around the bushes, creating a pleasant place for a walk.

Still linked by their hands, Harry and Draco ambled along the path, occasionally trying to catch the lights or brush against the roses. They didn’t speak, mostly because it was unnecessary. There were no words they could use that the other didn’t already understand.

Eventually they found an unoccupied bench and sat down, leaning against each other. They still remained silent, just observing the view, their clasped hands, and each other.

All too soon, the calm quiet was broken by the sounds of whispered arguing.

“Igor, you must calm yourself.”

“Do not pretend that you don’t feel it also!”

It was Snape and Karkaroff’s voices. The latter’s was tinged with anxiety and frustration. Their words were coming from around a bend in the path, and after a moment Harry could see the tops of their heads above the bushes. “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months now, Severus! You cannot tell me that you are not just as concerned as I-”

Snape’s voice was sharp as he cut the other man off. “Then flee as you always do. I, however, have no plans of leaving this school.”

Tone just on the edge of scornful, Karkaroff made a little noise of acknowledgement. “Ah, yes. Your deal with Dumbledore? Not to mention the bond between you and the Potter boy. Oh, don’t make that face, Severus, it’s not like you’ve kept it a secret...”

Rather than reply, Snape lashed out at the bushes with a muttered spell. Two shrieks of surprise rang out. “Ten points from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.” He snarled, as two students (a pair of sixth years, maybe?) scurried out and ran towards the entrance way. As he spun back around, he spotted Harry and Draco, still pressed together, not even bothering to hide that they’d been listening. For just a second, he froze.

Harry bit his bottom lip while the professor stared at them. He was sure his annoyingly expressive eyes were showing just how his stomach was twisting.

It probably should have occurred to him by now that Snape acting as his mentor was a huge liability. Even back before he knew the man was a Death Eater, when they had faced down the Quirrell-Voldemort hybrid, he had defended Harry, even as the parasitical Dark Lord had snarled at him for his betrayal.

In hindsight, he really should have known that Snape was a Death Eater then. But that night had been filled with emotional turmoil and blurred by adrenaline, and so anything Voldemort had said that wasn’t directed at him had fallen to the back of his mind.

From one instant to the next, Snape’s face went from almost guilty to angry. “What are you two doing out?” He snarled.

“Just enjoying the night, sir.” Draco replied, not sounding contrite in the least. And why should he? They were just sitting in the garden. 

Snape’s lips curled nastily, and he made an abrupt gesture down the path. “Cease loitering, if you would.”

Arguing would do them no good, and might even incite the man to give them a detention, and so the two of them made their way further down the walkway, still linked by the hands. Harry glanced back at the two tall, dark figures, who watched them carefully until they were out of sight.

They kept going for a couple more minutes, before Draco murmured to Harry, “You okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry returned, shrugging and gazing away at the lights.

A snort came from Draco. “Possibly because you have the tendency to think like an Gryffindor at the most annoying of times. You’re feeling guilty over Snape, right?” When Harry scuffed his shoe against the path rather than answer, he continued. “Well stop it. He made the decision to back you when you were eleven. It’s not like you forced him to be nice to you. So shove it and smile, would you? You’re on a date with a _Malfoy_. You’re not allowed to be in a bad mood.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry shoved his shoulder against Draco’s, which was made easier by their linked hands. “Prat.”

“Idiot.”

As they reached the fountain in the middle of the garden, their banter was cut off by another fiercely whispered conversation. Just past the huge decoration, they could see two silhouettes, far too large to be anyone but Hagrid and Madame Maxime

Voice rumbling like thunder, Hagrid spoke. “I know. From the momen’ I saw yeh, I knew.”

Harry and Draco exchanged glances. This sounded remarkably intimate. The brunette twisted around, planning on leaving them to it, but Draco yanked him forward and down until they were hidden by the stone base of the fountain. He glared at the taller boy, but Draco had that mischievous look in his eye. Resigning himself to fate, Harry settled down, squirming away from the dark shape of a large bug scurrying away. It must have been disturbed by their movements.

“What did you know, ‘Agrid?” Maxime asked him, something like a low purr in her tone. This was definitely something Harry could live without hearing, but Draco ignored his uncomfortable shifting.

From the shadows they cast, Harry could see Hagrid shift just a bit closer to her. “Tha’ yer like me. Was it yer mother or yer father?”

Oh. Well, that had not been what he’d expected. 

Clearly it hadn’t been what Maxime thought either, but cause she jumped slightly. “I-I do not know what you mean.”

Hagrid plowed through that feeble lie. “It was my mother. One o’ the las’ in Britain, I suppose. ‘Course, she left when I was jus’ a lad. Not the motherin’ type.” He gave a chuckle. There was something hollow about the noise. Harry knew the feeling. “Not in their natures, is it? Dunno what happened to her...”

Madame Maxime remained silent, and Hagrid went on to outline some of his childhood. Apparently his father had died when he was young. Harry resolved to give Hagrid a big hug next time he saw the man.

Once he finished, the woman stood. “It ‘as gotten cold. I think I will go back inside now.”

Standing, Hagrid called over her, tone hurt. “Eh? No, don’ go! I’ve never met someone like me before!”

With a dramatic whirl, Madame Maxime faced him again. “Anozzer what., ‘Agrid?” The warning in her voice was clear.

_Oh, Hagrid, please don’t..._

“Another half-giant, o’ ‘course!”

He did.

Immediately, the woman began denying it, loudly and vehemently. A few students, including Fleur and her date, who had been hidden in the bushes, tumbled out of their various hiding places.

Without giving Hagrid the chance to reply, she stormed back inside, leaving the man standing outside in the cold, dark garden. He remained fixed in place for a full minute, simply staring after Maxime, before slowly turning around and making his way back to his home.

Harry thought it’d be a long walk for him.

Once he was out of sight, the two boys stood and started walking back towards the Great Hall. “Did you know that?” Draco asked him, eyes wide.

“About the giant thing? No. And so what?” Draco sent him a look that said he thought Harry was being an ignorant idiot, and Harry glared back. “He’s exactly the same as he was every time we’ve talked to him for the past three and a half years, Draco. Don’t pull that on me.” 

It took a second for Draco to respond. “It’s just... Giants are... Well, they’re brutes, really. Vicious brutes. Think Crabbe and Goyle at their worst, but multiplied by about 20. They just like violence. It’s something enjoyable to them. The Aurors drove most of them out ages ago. Now the mostly keep to the mountains.”

Giving a shrug, he looked back into the inky night where Hagrid had gone. “I still don’t get it. Hagrid is Hagrid.”

“Well, it certainly explains a lot about him, doesn’t it? And not just how big he is. I always figured he drank a vial of skelegrow as a kid or something. I mean how he’s able to deal with all those scary creatures, like hippogriffs and dragons and all that. Dangerous calls to dangerous.”

A frustrated groan escaped Harry. “Hagrid can deal with all those things because he’s huge. What can hurt him? I think he forgets how small everyone else is sometimes. Not because he has some sort of hidden bloodlust.” He glanced at Draco, staring until he caught the other boy’s eye. “You know how you called me out on being a Gryffindor earlier? This is me calling you out on being prejudiced. Hagrid has not changed.”

There was a moment of silence as Draco looked about to protest. Then he shrugged. “I suppose. Still, it just fits.”

At that point they entered the Hall again. Quite a few couples were still enjoying The Weird Sisters, including Pansy and Blaise, as well as Hermione and Krum. Many of the students had disappeared to find their own entertainment.

Harry and Draco set their outer robes aside again and went up to dance, if only to warm up. They stayed in a little group with Pansy and Blaise, as well as Milicent later, once she had finished dancing with all the people who caught her eye.

Around midnight the band finished up, and the five of them broke up to get a final drink before heading down. Before Harry could get to the refreshments, a voice caught his attention.

“Harry!” It was Cedric, who was making his way up to them. His hair was out of place, sticking up in the back, and his cheeks were flushed with exertion. It was attractive, but the knowledge that Draco was beside him, looking even more amazing and _Harry’s_ killed the thought before it fully formed.

Draco clearly didn’t get the memo, because he grabbed Harry’s hand and glared at Cedric.

The Hufflepuff was clearly used to the expression and didn’t bat an eye. Instead he cast that million-watt smile at Harry. “Congratulations on the first task, Harry! That was freaky, but it worked better than the dog I used, so there you go. Thanks for the hint as well. I dunno what I would have done without it.”

Giving a shrug (which was kind of difficult, with the way Draco was hanging of him) Harry gave a small smile back. “No problem. Wasn’t fair for you not to know.”

“You would have done well in Hufflepuff.” Cedric told him, which he made sound like an amazing complement. No offense to his House, but Harry would stick to being a Slytherin, thanks. “I figured I’d pay you back, actually.” He leaned forward a bit, looking very shifty indeed. Harry boggled at how obvious he was being. “Try taking a bath.”

Draco looked outraged. Harry coloured, embarrassed. Hearing that from someone he was just getting over a crush on... 

Seeing their expressions, Cedric backtracked. “I mean, with the egg. It shrieks, right? The water... just trust me, okay? Use the Prefect’s Bath. The password is ‘pine fresh’.” He smiled again, the expression twisted by the awkward look in his eye. Glancing back, he saw his date impatiently tapping her foot at the door. “Talk to you later, Harry!” With that he made his escape.

Casting a dark look after him, Draco mumbled, “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Oh, come on. He was trying to be helpful. He’s hopelessly straight, Draco.”

This did not deter the blonde in the least. “What did he mean by you giving him a hint.”

Realizing he’d yet to tell Draco the whole story, he linked his arm with his boyfriend’s (part of his mind did a strange sort of somersault at the word) and led him down towards the dungeons. “Well, you see, it’s all your fault, in the end. If you hadn’t been being a prat, I wouldn’t have run off.”

A push at his shoulder cut Harry off, and it took a minute for him to regain his footing. By the time he regained his balance, Draco had already taken off. “Idiot!” He called back.

“Prat! Get back here!”

~*~

When they arrived back at the Slytherin dorms, the other three had beaten them back. Blaise and Millicent had disappeared upstairs, and Pansy was flopped sideways onto one of the couches. “About time you two showed up.”

The boys collapsed on top of her, ignoring the way she squealed and squirmed. They really were a bit big for this now - the couch only held so much, and they weren’t twelve anymore. Still, they managed to make it work for a few seconds.

“This is kinda different now.” Harry said, as he rested his head on Pansy’s shoulder.

Snorting, Pansy nuzzled into his hair. “Puberty will do that.”

He squirmed a bit until she dug her chin into his scalp to stop him. “Not that. Well, not only that. Draco and I are dating now.” He saw Draco smirk out of the corner of his eye, and felt his hand grab his own and lace their finger together. “You’re with Blaise... It’s changing. Ever wish we could just stay twelve, when things weren’t all complicated?”

Chuckling, Pansy shook her head. “No, I don’t. This age has snogging. I quite like it, thanks.”

“Maybe we’ll just have to have sex before you, Pansy. Put you in your place.” Harry went bright red ad the words, and the other two laughed at him. 

In revenge, Pansy bucked hard enough to make them both tumble off the couch into a tangled pile. “Like you could ever put me in my place, Draco Malfoy. It’s so above you that you can’t see it without a telescope.”

Draco and Harry shared a grin before they both reached up and yanked her off into their tangle. “Now whose above who?” The blonde cackled, pinning her down.

They horseplay didn’t last long, as they were already tired out. When she reached her limit, Pansy pushed them both away, giggling. “Go on, you two. You’re a couple now, so act like it. Go do something together.”

Too tired to argue, they all yawned their good-nights to each and headed off to their respective beds.

Before they split up to get ready for bed, Harry resolved all that Gryffindor Courage he supposedly had and leaned over to peck Draco on the cheek. The blonde froze and glanced at him, but Harry had already turned away, blushing to the tips of his ears.

As he got ready, Harry could see that Draco was wearing the soppiest grin he had ever seen on his face. A pale hand kept coming up to rest on the spot Harry had kissed. The warm feelings that invaded Harry at the sight only made him blush harder.

Almost as soon as he had changed out of those fancy robes and hit the bed, Harry was asleep. The last thing he saw before he drifted off was the warm stare of Draco.

That night, Harry had no nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one has art. Click at your own risk: [I apologize for any eye bleeding.](http://hpcaa.livejournal.com/16347.html)


	11. Rub-a-Dub-Dub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warming: Allusions to sexual situations

Breakfast the next morning was unsurprisingly lacking in upper years.  Those who were in attendance, like Draco, Pansy and Harry, were blinking blearily at the plates.  Due to his dulled reflexes, Harry didn’t spot the school owl in time to prevent the letter she was carrying from falling into his eggs.  He grumbled a bit and fed the owl a strip of bacon when it eyed his food greedily.

“Who’s it from?”  Pansy asked.  She covered her mouth after, hiding her yawn.

Tearing open the envelope, Harry’s eyebrows shot up.  “It’s from... Padfoot.  He wants to talk again tonight.”

Draco eyed him.  “Again?  I missed all the interesting events, I swear.”

A dangerous frown was appearing on Pansy’s face.  “I didn’t hear about this either.”

He shot them a sheepish smile.  “It was right before the first task, after one of my sessions with Severus.  I forgot about it until that night.  Really, it wasn’t a big deal.  He warned me that Karkaroff was a shady character.  Nothing newsworthy.”  He glanced down at the note.  “I dunno why he wants to talk tonight.”

Looking thoughtful, Pansy took a sip of her juice.  “Maybe he wanted to congratulate you on how well you did?  You did get first place, after all.”

Shrugging, Harry stuffed the letter into his pocket.  “I guess we’ll find out.”

Once they’d finished eating, the best thing to do seemed to be to go back to the dorm to relax.  They made their way down into the passageway, and Pansy split off to get a book from her room.

As soon as they stepped into their dorm, a pillow flew towards them and hit Draco square in the face.  Before the blonde could do more than sputter in indignation, Blaise glared at them.  “Mummy’s calling, Draco dear.  Every ten minutes since you left, actually.  Merlin, can’t a bloke get some sleep!”  With that dramatic cry, Blaise flopped backward and closed the curtains with a wave of his hand.

“We need better friends.”  Draco grumbled, throwing the pillow back at Blaise with Chaser skill.  It slipped through the break in the cloth and a muttered curse confirmed the hit.

Just then, a voice came from the Malfoy heir’s trunk.  “Draco?”

Making his way over to the trunk, Draco pulled it open and picked up the two way mirror.  When he came up beside the blonde, Harry could see Narcissa peering out.  “Hello, Mother.” He greeted.

Waving a delicate hand dismissively, Narcissa gave them searching looks.  “Never mind the pleasantries.  I assume everything went well with the courting?”  Two smiles answered her, and she looked very pleased indeed.  “It’s about time, I must say.  I’ve been waiting for this since you two were in Second Year.”

Draco glanced sideways at Harry.  “It wasn’t my fault.  It’s not like I could have done the courting.  Harry wouldn’t have known what it meant.  And anyway, he was too busy mooning over Diggory to show any interest in me.”

A frown crossed Narcissa’s face, and she sent him a look that questioned what he could find in a _Diggory_ that a Malfoy could not match or better.  Throwing up his hands in defense, Harry said, “Hey, Cedric was the safer person to have a crush on.”  For that he got a pair of confused looks.  He shrugged.  “Well, so far as I knew neither of you liked me.  So Cedric was the better one to focus on, since when he inevitably rejected me, at least being awkward with him wouldn’t ruin my life, like being awkward with you would.”

For that he got two warm yet exasperated looks, and he blinked at them, not really sure why.  He felt vaguely like a kitten that kept tripping on it’s own paws.  Something adorable that inspired pity.  It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

After a moment, Narcissa focused onto Draco.  “Your father and I are both very pleased with this turn of events.  He had to go to the Ministry for a press conference about a charity event, but he does approve.  Now be good, boys.  Do check in more often.”

“Yes, Mother.”  Draco rolled his eyes as the mirror switched to show only his face.  He put it back in it’s place in his trunk and eyed Harry again.  “That stuff about Diggory... how true was it?”

Blinking at him, Harry replied, “All of it.  I don’t tend to lie to your Mother if I can help it.  She’s kind of uncanny at picking it out.”

Shrugging, Draco continued to stare at him.  “It’s a Mum thing, I think.  Childbirth gives them special powers or something.”  After a moment, he said, “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“Hey!”

Instead of responding to Harry’s cry, Draco grabbed his hand.  “C’mon, get your book and let’s leave Blaise to waste the day away.”

As he reached over to grab his book ( _500 Unusual Uses for Everyday Potions_ ), Harry snorted.  “Oh, please.  Like you’d be doing the same thing if I hadn’t woke you.”  Draco stuck his nose in the air, ignoring the comment completely.  Harry rolled his eyes at him as they made their way back out into the Common Room.

The three spent the day just relaxing together.  They spent some time relaxing in the Common Room, spent a bit of time exploring some of the less used hallways in the dungeons, and took a short walk outside (at which point they found Hagrid’s hut had smoke coming from the chimney, but all the lights inside were off.  They decided it was probably best to leave him alone for a while to come to terms before visiting).

Finally it was near time for Sirius to appear.  The last other person in the Common Room had gone to bed an hour previous, so they were alone with the fireplace.

A few minutes before 1 AM, Draco grabbed Pansy and pushed her to the side of the fireplace, and sat down there.  Harry gazed at him quizzically.  “You’re Godfather won’t speak as freely if he knows we’re here.  So, as far as he knows, we’re not.”

Nodding, Harry turned back to the fireplace, watching the flames dance. A minute or so later, the flames went green and Sirius’ face appeared.  “Heya, Harry!”  He grinned, the expression toothy.  “Great job at the first task!  I have to say, I’m not particularly found of the method you picked, but you sure turned a negative into a positive.”

Arching an eyebrow at him, Harry tilted his head to the side.  “The only negative I really see to Parseltongue is the way people react to it.”

For that he got another smile and a quick head tilt as the man acknowledged the point.  “Onto the reason I wanted to talk to you.  You’re dating the Parkinson girl?” 

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pansy and Draco stiffen.  “No, actually.  The kiss was just to mess with Skeeter.”  He let Sirius get half way through his appreciative chuckle before adding, “I’m dating Draco.”

It was kind of satisfying to hear Sirius choke on his laugh.  It was fun to knock people’s expectations away.

“The Malfoy kid?”  He wheezed, coughing a bit.  He must have inhaled ashes.  Ow.  “But, his father...”

Sending a deadpan look at the man’s face, Harry interrupted.  “I really doubt that you can tell me anything about Mr. Malfoy that would surprise me.”

The look in Sirius’ eyes was surprisingly dark when he replied, “Don’t be so sure of that, Harry.”  Then he looked past Harry towards the Slytherin Common Room.  “Didn’t expect this one.”  He murmured.

Feeling unsettled, Harry shifted a bit.  He could feel a few insecurities making themselves known, and he purposefully avoided meeting Draco or Pansy’s eyes.  “Does it bother you?”

Something about his tone must have tipped Sirius off, because the man was suddenly studying him intently.  The way his eyes searched Harry’s face reminded him a bit of Narcissa.  “About the Malfoy kid?  Give me a little time to get used to the idea, at least.”  Harry twitched a bit, and Sirius frowned then suddenly looked away.  “I did you wrong, kiddo.”

That caught Harry’s attention, and he tilted his head at the man.  Sirius continued to gaze off to the side.  “Those Muggles... I dunno what they did, exactly.  That’s probably for a time when we’re face to face.  But if nothing else they didn’t really prepare you for the Wizarding World.  The fact that you’re dating a boy doesn’t bother me, okay?  It would be a case of the pot calling the kettle Black.  Siriusly.”  He grinned at his puns as Harry rolled his eyes and groaned theatrically.

He supposed there was something to the Gryffindor way of just saying things outright.

“But, give me some time on who you’re dating, would you?  I’ll get over it.  Eventually.”  Sirius wrinkled his nose, like a dog who had caught a bad scent.  “I have to.  You’re my favourite Godson, after all.”

“I assume I’m you’re only Godson.”

Making that psuedo-shrug motion, Sirius gave him a shocked look.  “I know, right?  You would think I’d have people lining up to let me influence their kids!”  Harry laughed outright at that, and Sirius ducked his head like he was taking a bow.  “I suppose I’ve done my duty for the night.  Good luck on the second task, Harry.”  He paused, putting on a look too innocent to be real.  “Are you sure you don’t want me there?”

Rolling his eyes, Harry made to get up.  “I’m sure, Sirius.  Please stay where it’s safe.”

The man sighed but didn’t fight it.  “Alright.  Bye, Harry.”

“Bye.”

With that the fire went back to normal, if rather weak from not being fed, and Harry turned to look at Pansy and Draco.  The blonde was gazing thoughtfully at the fireplace.  “He’s not number one on my list, but he’s alright, I guess.  So far as cousins go.”

Snorting, Harry stood up and shifted from side to side, getting the blood to flow into his legs. 

~*~

Boxing Day came in with blustering snow and frigid winds that piled drifts up in the corners of windows and made the surface of the Black Lake look like steel.  Along with the icy weather came a shocking front page story about Hagrid being half-giant.  Harry glared at Skeeter’s name and balled up the paper, angered at the defamation of his first magical friend and threw the paper into the fire in the Common Room.  Not long after Harry had dragged Draco out into the elements so they could talk to and reassure Hagrid that he still had their support.  

It had been worth it.  Even if they had gotten minor frostbite.

Currently Harry was sitting on his bed, poking at the Golden Egg that sat in his lap.  He was playing Cedric’s words over in his head.  What was he supposed to do with the Egg in the bath?  If being near water made it stop screeching why couldn’t he do it in the shower?  He put the Egg aside carefully and rolled onto his stomach, plopping his face into the pillows in defeat. 

He hated this stupid Tournament.

He felt a warm, familiar heaviness against his back and turned his head to the side.  “Hullo, Pans.”

She didn’t say anything but she hummed in greeting and rubbed at his shoulders with her hands as she settled her body over his.  “How’d you know I wasn’t Draco?”

“Draco doesn’t have breasts.”

Pansy’s laugh was soft and she snuggled into his neck, making him feel languid and sleepy.  It was strange to say, but Harry actually enjoyed the weight of her atop him.  She wasn’t heavy enough to cause him discomfort, and she was almost unnaturally warm.  And she smelled nice.  Harry thought it would be a little rude to compare her with one of those overly large, fluffy dogs that liked to lay with their owners, but it was the best comparison he could come up with on short hand. 

“Dunno, I think maybe my girlfriend and your boyfriend are having it on the side.”

Harry shifted carefully under Pansy and lifted his head to look at Blaise and Draco.  “Because I’m so very interested in girls.”

Blaise barked out a short laugh.  “Alright, point.  Is there a reason my girlfriend is pressed against you in her pajamas?”

“I was the closest warm body?”

Pansy giggled into Harry’s shoulder.  “Right, because your feet and hands aren’t like ice all the time.  I have half a mind to blame those Muggles not only for your poor posture and sadly stunted growth, but also your weak circulation.”

Harry snorted a laugh.  “I’ve taken to blaming them for the most mundane of things, so you wouldn’t be alone.”

Harry watched and felt as Pansy shifted to lie beside him.  She was joined on her other side by Blaise and Harry smiled and curled happily towards Draco when the boy took up his other side.  It was a narrow fit, all of them on his bed but Harry wouldn’t have put it past them if they enlarged the bed or all tangled in a mess of limbs.  

“Did you figure out this Egg business yet?”  Blaise asked. 

“I’m still trying to figure out the strangeness of Cedric’s clue.”

“Hmph.  I still say he’s toying with you.”

“Draco, darling, I think you’re being a tad overprotective.  Harry, I say you try the baths tonight.  If nothing comes of it then at least you’ve tried.”

Harry nodded at Pansy’s words and yawned widely.  The warmth of the surrounding bodies made him feel sleepy.  He felt Draco’s fingers drag through his hair. 

“Rest.”

Harry drifted in the lazy, late afternoon dim. 

~*~

The egg really was weird, Harry decided, as he slipped it into his bag.  Who’s idea was it to make a clue out of gold, anyway?  And why an egg?  Just because of the dragon, or for some other reason?

As he was contemplating it, a pale hand shoved a pair of swim trunks into the bag next to the clue.  Harry looked up the see Draco tuck his own pair into his school bag and give him a steady look.  “What are you doing?”  He asked.

“I’m coming with you.”

Tiling his head, Harry eyed him.  “Well, I figured that.  But why?  I’m going to take a _bath_.”

A little huff came from Draco as he stuck his nose in the air.  “I figure when that Hufflepuff betrays you or something equally awful, you’ll need me by your side.  And Pansy can’t come, obviously.  It’s a bath.”

For a moment Harry just blinked at him, before wondering, “Did you even listen to what you just said?”  Draco gave him a dirty look, and Harry wasn’t a particular fan of fighting unwinnable battles, and so he sighed.  “Fine, fine. Have it your way.”

Draco looked triumphant and practically marched out of their dorm.  Rolling his eyes, Harry followed.

This was probably not going to be a fun night.

It wasn’t late enough for them to be in trouble for wandering the halls, but it was at a point where they really shouldn’t have been going anywhere.  Harry had chosen this time because there was the least chance one of the prefects would be there. He didn't want to get Cedric in trouble.  Because of this they ran into no one on the way.

“Pine Fresh.”  Harry told the doorway, shooting Draco a warning glance out of the corner of his eye as he did so.  The blonde did his best to look innocent, which was more damning than any other expression he could have chosen.

The room itself was rather grand.  There were a few paintings on the walls, the most prominent of which feature a Muggle-style mermaid, which was fast asleep.  The floor was made of some highly polished material, and the tub itself was more like a pool than anything.

As soon as the door was closed, Draco put down his bag and started to take off his shirt.

Harry was starting to see a problem with this idea.

He’d seen Draco shirtless before, obviously  They were both on the Quidditch team - he’d seen Millicent topless, which was a visual he could have done without.  But here, amongst the splendor of the room, and without the distraction of physical exertion.

The pale skin, the slight, barely visible dusting of hair on his arms, the way his muscles visibly shifted...

Yeah. Harry had a problem.

Once Draco got started on his trousers, Harry spun away, face red.  He started on his own clothes, keeping the t-shirt he’d been wearing on and switching to his trunks as fast as possible.

While his back was turned, he heard Draco start playing with the numerous taps.  “Oh, bubbles!”

When Harry turned around, Draco was starting to submerge himself in the water.  Those grey eyes were fixed firmly on Harry as he moved, not bothering to hide the way his eyes were roaming his exposed legs and arms.

Gulping, Harry grabbed the egg and followed him in.  He was very aware of the way the water made his shirt cling to his stomach, and how very scrawny that must make him look.  He was also very aware of the way water droplets were sliding down Draco’s arm and chest.

His hair was dry, though.  It was just like Draco to manage to keep his hair in perfect order while in what really was a pool.

Ignoring the impulse to do something about that, Harry held the egg so that the bottom part of it touched the water and opened it.  The familiar shrieking noise filled the room, sounding even louder with the way it echoed.  Harry shut it as quickly as he could, staring at it.  “Well, that was successful.”

“I told you.”  Draco told him, voice flat.  He drifted over so he was next to Harry, pressed against his side.  Even compared to the warm water, he could feel the heat coming off him.  Harry was starting to be very thankful for those bubbles.

Pushing the other boy a bit, Harry rolled his eyes.  “Can we not give up at once, please?”

Draco snorted and splashed at Harry, getting the boy’s glasses wet.  “Alright, let’s waste more time.”  He paused for a second and then reached forward and slid Harry’s glasses off his face, placing them gently on the rim of the tub.  The intimacy of the gesture made Harry’s breath hitch and his cheeks burned.

A mix of some sort of panic and heat and tension made Harry try to take a step back, but the slick oils and bubbles made the floor of the bath slippery, and with a cut off yelp Harry was suddenly underwater.

The egg hit the bottom with a heavy thud, and the impact made it open.  Harry braced himself for the awful noise, but it never came.

Instead there was singing.

_Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground,  
And while you're searching ponder this;  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,     
But past an hour, the prospect's black,  
Too late it's gone, it won't come back._

Just as the song finished up, a pair of arms wrapped around Harry’s chest and heaved him up.  Harry panted as he stared at Draco’s near frantic expression.

“What was that?! Are you alright?  Merlin, you scared the hell out of me.”  Draco ran a hand through his hair, which was now wet at the tips, breath coming in gulps.

Harry took a few more breaths, shaking his head.  “Draco, listen.”  He motioned downwards before taking another gulp of air and ducking under the water.  After a second Draco followed him.  Harry could just barely make out the other boy’s eyes, vision terrible without his glasses and underwater, but still noticed when they went wide with realization.

They listen to the song a full time before Harry grabbed the egg and closed it and they went back up to the surface.  “That does not sound good.”  Draco panted at him.

Shaking his head, Harry closed his eyes.  “No, it doesn’t.”  He replayed the key bits of information in his head.  “An hour where?”  Biting his lip, he opened his eyes to gaze at the egg.  “You can only hear it underwater, like the song said.  Someplace with enough water that a search could take an hour.”  He looked at Draco.

“The lake.”  The blonde breathed.  “That’s got it be it.  What’s in it?”

“The Giant Squid?”

Draco tilted his head.  “I don’t think so.  It’s just a creature, you know?  It doesn’t really have the intelligence to be part of something like this.  Besides, it said we, right?”  He froze.  “The Merpeople.  Oh, hell.”

Groaning, Harry leaned againt the brim of the tub.  “You’re right.  It’s the only think that makes sense.”  He glared at the egg like it was at fault for deciding the challenge.  “And what’s this stuff about stealing my stuff?  Something I’ll ‘sorely miss’.  The Invisibility Cloak?”

Shrugging, Draco moved so he was next to Harry, also staring at the egg.  “I hope not.  If you can’t find it in an hour then good-bye wonderful tool.”

“You really think they’d make it so we can’t get our stuff back?  LIke, are they going to keep us from going back for it or something?”

For a moment Draco pondered it.  “I doubt it.  I think it’s supposed to be like a quest sort of thing.  Make it sound dramatic or some rubbish.  Or they just want you desperate.  Either way, really.  No matter the reason, I doubt that they’ll destroy your cloak or whatever it would be.”

Nodding, Harry twisted to put the egg on brim.  “That sounds about right.  The cloak was probably from Dumbledore in the first place.  He wouldn’t tear it up or anything.  He knows the value of it.  Hopefully.”  He shrugged.  “No sense worrying about it.  If it’ll happen, it’ll happen.”

“Right.”  Draco agreed.  “You should be figuring out the best way to find it in the lake.  I’m sure you can get it in time, so let’s not be bothered.”

After a moment, Harry shifted a bit.  “Ready to head back?”

Draco eyed Harry.  “Well, it’s not like we have anywhere to be.  Anyway my hair is wet anyway, so...”  The blonde suddenly whirled and tackled Harry, sending them both tumbling underwater.

It was nearly an hour before they left.

~*~

Harry listened from his bed to the sounds of Draco getting settled.  The two of them had gotten back a little over fifteen minutes ago and Draco had changed and was now quietly getting ready for bed.  It wasn’t long before Harry heard Draco’s curtains close with a muttered spell before he heard nothing at all.  

Harry shifted in bed.  He felt restless.  Being that close to Draco for so long, especially while wearing minimal amounts of clothing, had been difficult.  They hadn’t done anything aside from splash water about and discuss ideas on what to do.  But Draco, especially now, was a very hands on person.  He liked to press himself close.  

And damn if it didn’t do anything to Harry. 

Harry shifted around in bed before silently opening the curtains to his bed.  He peered out nervously, making sure everyone else was actually asleep.  Setting his glasses down on his bedside table Harry closed his curtains again and put up a silencing charm and climbed under the covers.  He laid there, blinking up at the ceiling, trying to push emptiness into his head.  

Except every time he closed his eyes he saw Draco working the top button of his trousers.  Harry groaned and scrubbed his hands over his face and slowly untied the string on his pajama pants and with a bit of wiggling they were eased down his thighs.  Pulling his covers over his head, Harry slowly relaxed as he closed his eyes and let his hands roam.

~*~

Harry dropped in three ripe, plump black Belladonna berries into the potion as instructed.  He watched as the opalescent potion gave a puff of orange smoke and rippled gently.  He watched as Severus tapped the side of the strong copper cauldron and the flame below it died.  

“Now it steeps for...?”

“Twenty eight days.”

Nodding in approval Severus waved his wand at the cauldron again and there was a shimmering flash of colour as a dome over it before it faded.  Harry figured it was to protect the potion and leave any lingering heat inside.  

“Have you figured out your Egg yet?”

“Something about a task with the Black Lake.  Something will be stolen and we’ll have an hour to look for it.  There’s a problem however...”

Snape rose a brow.  “Breathing, I gather?”

“Um... No.”  Harry shifted a little.  “I can’t swim.”

“You can’t...”  Snape pressed a few fingers against his temple.  

“When exactly did you expect me to learn, sir?”  Harry’s voice was snappish and defensive, clearly misinterpreting.  “Between laundry and beatings I suppose I could have scheduled it in.”

Snape heaved out a sigh.  There were still times, though by now they were thankfully few and far between, when Harry would bristle about his past.  About his ineffectual, non-existent childhood.  “I meant nothing by my statement, Harry.  You needn’t be so offended.  There are manuals you could read.”

“I’ve read a few.  However when it comes to actually doing anything about it I freeze up.”

Snape nodded slowly, musing.  “I suppose I could... aid you in your endevour.”

“You?”

“Yes.  I am quite an adept swimmer.  I was forced by a friend when I was nine to learn so I could go to her beach birthday party.”

Harry didn’t even bother to hide his mirthful laughter as he looked up at Snape.  “My mother taught you how to swim?”

“Her and your maternal grandmother, yes.  Your mother worked as a lifeguard during the summers.  She loved the water.”

Harry’s eyes turned downward for a moment before he looked back up.  “Won’t it be dangerous to go swimming in such cold water?”

“That’s what potions and spells are for.”  Snape was thoughtful for a moment.  “You will meet me here tomorrow after lunch.  We will brew warming potions and then set about on your first lesson.  Before we can even think about you breathing underwater we need to have you comfortable.”

Harry nodded his head.  “Agreed.”

Snape nodded his head in response.  “For now, we will go over the properties of the Wide Awake potion.”

Harry nodded his head and followed Snape out of the back laboratory and once more into the classroom.


	12. Poor Unfortunate Souls

A few days later, a letter fell into Harry’s lap. The school owl that had carried it snagged a bit of bacon before scurrying off. Harry blinked at it for a moment before turning to the letter, opening it.

_Come to my office at curfew. Wear your swimming clothes under your robes._

_-S_

Shoving the letter into his pocket, Harry glanced at Snape, who arched his eyebrows at him before going back to his lunch. Harry followed suit,and tried to ignore the sensation of Draco sticking his hand into Harry’s pocket to retrieve the letter. He also ignored the way Blaise and Pansy were snickering at them.

The rest of the day passed soon enough, and right as the clock hit nine he knocked at Snape’s door. He shifted around a bit as he waited for the professor to unlock the door. His school robes were rubbing over his bare legs, and the feeling wasn’t terribly pleasant.

When Snape opened the door, Harry couldn’t tell if the man was wearing trunks or not (which was a mental image Harry had been trying and failing to get all day). His robes were buttoned up to the throat like normal, and if he was just wearing swimwear underneath, it certainly wasn’t embarrassing him. 

Making Warming Potions was no problem for the two of them, but it required twenty minutes to settle. Harry spent most of them peppering Snape with questions, like this was a normal tutoring session. “Why are we using Warming Potions instead of charms?”

“Warming Potions will last longer.” Snape replied. “Also, what do you think happens when one tries to cast a spell underwater?”

Tilting his head, Harry responded, “Well, the words would get garbled. But aren’t there spells that don’t need wands? I’ve seen you do some.”

With a nod, Snape leaned back against his desk. “That is true, but it’s something that takes a lot more energy and concentration. Most witches and wizards are not capable of doing more than basic spells that way. A charm like that one, where it’s aimed at the body, is not something many people would be comfortable with. Nor would it be the smartest spell to start a fourteen year old on.” 

Harry grinned, the expression just a bit maniac. “I dunno, setting myself on fire might be better than having to go through the rest of the tournament.” The look on Snape’s face showed how little he appreciated the joke. Harry’s smile turned a bit apologetic before he turned his gaze to the potion.

“What will the Second Task require you to do?” Snape asked, eyeing him. “The lake is an unusual place to have such an event, especially considering that it will be difficult to monitor you.”

Once Harry had explained the egg’s clue, Snape nodded. “I agree that Merpeople will be involved. As for the last part, I can tell you for a fact that the hour limit is just to scare you. However, I doubt it will be an item.” Harry glanced at him in surprise. The professor wasn’t looking at him, eyes far away. “I don’t know what, but Professor Dumbledore at least would not view an item as something that would be so irreplaceable as to be ‘surely missed’.” 

Something about Snape’s posture and tone made Harry feel weary as to what Professor Dumbledore _would_ think irreplaceable. Before he could work up the courage to ask, the little timer charm went off, and the professor snatched up the two bottles of potion and opened the door, motioning for Harry to follow.

Luckily, the halls were empty on the way to the entrance hall. The fact that he was with Snape clearly showed that he was allowed out, but his instincts were still screaming at him not to be caught. Right before the went through the doors, Snape handed Harry the Warming Potion, who took it thankfully. He had not been looking forward to walking through the light snow in only a robe and some trunks.

The grounds were quiet and dark, and the sight of the lake, which looked just as dark as it’s name suggested. 

So not only was he going to drown, but he was going to step into some dark pit and get caught and _then_ drown. Lovely.

At the edge of lake, Snape started on his robes, and Harry reluctantly followed. He was wearing a t-shirt as well as his trunks. Tugging at the shirt, the boy frowned. On one hand, he did not want to be shirtless in front of his professor. On the other hand, he knew cloth got heavy when wet and didn’t want to be wearing anything that would increase his chances of dying a horrible watery death. With a sigh he took that off to, folding it and putting it on top of the robes, before glancing at Snape.

Rather than trunks, which Harry had been expecting, the man was decked out in a full wet suit, which had to be Muggle, considering that it had a zipper. It was so very Severus that Harry had to fight to keep from laughing. Judging by the dry look the professor’s face, he was not totally successful.

“Are you ready to begin?” Snape asked him. Rather than waiting for a response, the man made his way into the lake, stopping when he was waist deep. Harry remained on the banks for a long moment before heaving a sigh and making his way after Snape.

They started off with trying to get Harry used to the idea of the water. The way to do that was to get Harry to float on his back. The problem with that is that Harry would manage to keep on the water for a few seconds before a splash of water or a shift in his weight would make him panic and flail, which would send him tumbling under the surface.

Once Harry could keep on his back for a full minute, Snape showed him a few ways of moving through the water efficiently, focusing on something called the ‘breaststroke’, which looked ridiculous, but was good for moving around.

All in all the session lasted for nearly two hours. By that point the Potions were beginning to wear off, and Harry was starting to shiver lightly as they made their way out of the water. Snape seemed immune to the cold, and Harry couldn’t figure out if it was due to the thick wet suit or because his professor just refused to show weakness.

By the time they reached their clothes, Harry’s shivers were growing worse. Snape eyed him and pulled out his wand and casting a quick drying charm on the boy, before handing him his t-shirt and draping the cloak over his shoulders. Harry couldn’t resist the sigh of relief that resulted from that, and Snape eyed him in response. “It’s not a good idea to cast a warming charm on you until the potion has completely run it’s course. Will you be alright until then.”

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Harry nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ve done more strenuous things while colder than this.” When Snape got that dark look in his eyes that meant he was thinking about the Durlseys, Harry wished he hadn’t said anything. He shifted uncomfortably, and realized Snape’s hands were still on his shoulders, rubbing slightly to help the blood flow. 

The motions were strangely... paternal.

_If only..._

Shaking off that thought, Harry smiled as best he could at Snape. “Ready to go, Severus?” The man nodded and took his hands away. The air suddenly felt even colder. Frowning, Harry made his way towards the castle as quickly as he could. He could feel Snape’s presence at his side, and was mildly disturbed by how comforting he found that.

Once back in his dorm, Harry spent a long time staring at the canopy of his bed, trying to fight back his emotions. 

After all, who would want him as a son?

~*~

The next few days were rather repetitive as Harry worked on homework, planned for the task, practiced his swimming and classes resumed. Before he knew it it was Snape’s birthday and he was staring down at the copy of _All The King’s Men_ on his bed. Like the book Snape had given him, this one had been inspired by a gift. Though it wasn’t the same copy of the book Hermione had given him, it was the push behind him giving Snape a Muggle book in return for the one he had gotten for his birthday. 

Harry was tapping a pen against his knee. Though he loved writing in ink, he still loved the convenience of pens. They were quick and easy. He nibbled on the cap, thinking. He had been trying to come up with a good inscription for the past hour. Finally, Harry opened the cover and pulled the book into his lap before writing. 

_Severus,_

_The entire time I’ve known you, you’ve been trying to teach me not only potions and school subjects, but also about life in general. I think it’s about time I returned the favour. Take what you will from this book, but please know that I want you to think in the way that makes you the happiest, since you’ve done so much to make me happier._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry._

Staring at the inscription, feeling proud, Harry closed the book and gently wrapped it. He stood up and made his way out of the Common Room and down to Snape’s office. He slipped inside and looked around before making his way towards Snape’s desk and laid the wrapped gift on it before making his way out of the office as quickly as he could. Harry waited in the hallway before making his way up to the Great Hall to see who was there. 

Draco was no where to be found but Harry spotted his Gryffindor friends off to the side and joined them. Hermione smiled and looked away from the chessboard where Neville and Ron were playing. 

“Heya.” Ron greeted. “Looking for Malfoy?”

Harry shook his head. “I think he mentioned something about helping Blaise with Ancient Runes in the Library.”

“Hi, Harry. Excited for the next task?”

“It’s next week isn’t it?”

Harry nodded at Ron’s question and watched when one of Neville’s pieces smashed Ron’s to bits. “Yeah. Just trying to figure out one last snag in my plan.”

“What’s that?”

“How to breathe underwater for an hour.”

Hermione’s brows pinched together and she looked thoughtful. “I’m sure there are spells...”

Ron nodded his head. “Sure there are, but they’re really advanced. Maybe Snape could help you with a potion?”

“I’ve already looked. Nothing I could find in my books.”

Neville hummed softly. “You know... There’s this herb... It’s called gillyweed...”

Harry nodded slowly. “I remember seeing some of it in the potions stores. What’s it do?”

“It gives you webbed hands and feet and gills. There is some debate among herbologists about how long in lasts in fresh versus salt water, but...” Neville looked thoughtful. “An hour shouldn’t be too hard to manage.” 

Harry grinned. “Brilliant! I’ll talk to Professor Snape about it after class and see what he says. I’m sure he could give some to me. If not I can send away for some.” 

Ron watched as the pieces on the board reassembled and took their place. “Want a game?”

“Sure, I’ve got time.”

Neville and Harry switched spots and Ron moved his pawn. Harry moved a knight in defence.

“Why do you need to breathe underwater for an hour anyway?” 

“Can’t tell you, Hermione. Champion stuff.”

Hermione opened her mouth, before she closed it and nodded her head in defeated acknowledgement. 

~*~

The morning of the task dawned with clear skies and warmer temperatures than usual. Which would have been great if Harry wasn’t going to be at the bottom of Black Lake. When he woke that morning Draco was already gone, for some reason. Pansy was cursing him in between encouraging Harry to eat. “I can’t believe he’d disappear like that!” She said, glaring at the empty spot. “Why could he possibly be doing at a time like that? Finish those eggs, Harry. You’re going to need the energy.”

Harry groaned dramatically at her and muttered something about vomiting attracting terribly things that would eat him, and Pansy just rolled her eyes and jabbed at him with her fork until he took another bite.

Once breakfast finished, it was time. He was practically hyperventilating as he double checked his robes for the cloth-wrapped gillyweed and warming potion. His frantic glances for Draco turned up nothing, and he gave a brief hug to Pansy and Blaise before making his way over to the judge’s table, which was set up along the side of the edge of the water. With a start, Harry noticed that Crouch was no longer among their numbers. Instead Percy Weasley was in place, looking terribly important and pompous. Thinking back, Harry realized that he hadn’t been at the Yule Ball either. He’d be rather wrapped up in Draco at the time and hadn’t really registered it. Bagman and Dumbledore both smiled at him (Bagman’s slightly overenthusiastic and Harry wondered what his deal was, exactly).

The Champions were ushered to the edge of the lake, and Bagman took an extra moment to slap the boy on the back. “You got a plan, lad?”

Harry didn’t respond, instead gazing at him, deadpan. Of _course_ he had a plan. What kind of idiot would go into this without one?

Chuckling a bit, Bagman did that backslap thing again before wandering off and casting ‘sonorus!’.

“We’re ready to begin, Ladies and Gentlemen! The Champions will have exactly one hour to retrieve what has been taken from them. On my whistle, Champions! One... Two... Three...” 

The sound of the whistle was high pitched and echoed all the way across the lake. The crowd went wild. Rather than pay attention to the other champions, Harry stuffed the gillyweed in his mouth and chewed as fast as he could.

And then he jumped.

The water felt nearly as cold as it had a few night ago, and he nearly coughed up the herb in his shock. The water around him was dark and hard to see through, especially since he didn’t have his glasses.

Within a minute he felt a prickling sensation at his throat and hands, and the water around him seemed to heat up until it was comfortable. According to the professor, that was when he would know it had worked. It went against every instinct Harry had, but he managed to take a breath in. When it worked, he did a quick twist of joy before slipping off into the water.

The webbing at his hands and feet made doing the breaststroke a hundred times easier, and the knowledge that he physically could not drown kept him from flailing and ruining the effect. Before long he was speeding along the bottom.

It was actually quite lovely down here, now that he had eyes designed for looking at it. Small silver fish swam around him, darting away if he got too close. The weeds at the bottom swayed like they were caught in an invisible breeze.

With a start he remembered third year’s warnings about grindylows. Rather than go through the weeds, Harry kept carefully above them, wand at the ready. He wasn’t sure how useful his wand would be in this situation, but it was always better to have it.

He could see dark shapes twisted about in the weeds, and once a while there was a flash of something that looked like a tiny clawed hand, but none of them were able to reach him. Satisfied, Harry gazed around, trying to choose a direction. He needed to hear the voices of the Merpeople, but they could be anywhere.

Finally he just started off more towards the center of the lake. It was the best place to try and hear the singing.

It wasn’t terribly long before he started to catch low, musical noises. Heart skipping a beat, Harry identified the direction it was coming from and swam as hard as he could that way. Before long the words started to become clear (something about time running out and we’ve got what you seek and blah blah blah. It was nothing new, other than the timer). The rocks around him had pictures of Merpeople drawn on them. Most were pictured carrying spears and chasing giant tentacles, likely of the squid.

A few minutes later he came across little house-like structures made of rock. Merpeople swam about, watching him warily. They looked nothing like that portrait in the Prefect Bath. Instead they were all greyish skin and long, green hair. Their eyes were wild and their teeth sharp. In fact, the only thing that really looked like the portrait were their tails, which were sleek and powerful looking.

He swam around those dwellings a bit, trying to figure out where they would hide ‘what you seek’. In the distance he saw a grouping of blurred figures, and went that way.

Once the shapes came into focus, Harry froze.

Four people were tied against the tail of a giant stone Merperson. They were surrounded by a crowd of Merpeople, all swimming around with spears watching the hostages and him carefully.

Among the humans was Draco, tied between Cho Chang and Hermione. On the other side was a little girl with the same hair as Fleur. Draco, like the other three, was fast asleep, hanging limply in the water.

Without thinking, Harry swam as fast as he could towards Draco. To his surprise, the Merpeople let him pass without any fuss. Harry ran his hands over the blonde’s face, looking for damage. When he found none, he sighed, a stream of bubbles escaping him.

Grabbing a jagged looking rock from below him, Harry hacked at the ropes tying Draco down, eyeing the Merpeople. Still they did not react. Once Draco was floating freely, Harry wrapped him up in something like a hug and eyed the remaining three. 

Some little Gryffindor part of him wanted to make sure they’d be alright, but common sense stopped him. There was no way anyone was just going to let the rest of them die because of a stupid tournament. 

The longer he stared at the remaining three, the more restless the Merpeople around him became. “Take only your own hostage.” One hissed behind him.

With one last glance at Hermione, Harry secured his grip on Draco and started for the surface.

The Black Lake was deeper than Harry had thought in the center, and it was slow going with Draco’s dead weight acting like an anchor. Not to mention that the fact that he was in the center put him in the realm of the Giant Squid. A few times Harry had to make a dead stop or put on a burst of speed to avoid being hit by it’s huge tentacles. Luckily the creature didn’t seem to be after him so much as he was simply in the way. 

It took a full five minutes before they broke the surface. At first there was no reaction other than Draco starting to squirm, as though air was the key to waking him from that enchanted sleep. A few seconds later he heard someone shout, and then the crowd went nuts.

He and Draco, who was now going on about stupid contests putting him at risk and he better damn well have been the person Harry would miss most or else they would have been having words, made their way to the judges table, who were standing up to help them get out. 

Once out of the water, Harry felt as though he was being smothered, and tried to take deep gulping breaths to fill his lungs. Madame Pomfrey was on him in a moment, covering him with a blanket and holding him still as Harry started to struggle, pulling out her wand to cast diagnostic charms. The gillyweed! It hadn’t worn off!

Madame Pomfrey chattered through his weak attempts to talk to her, muttering darkly about the ridiculous amount of danger involved in this farce. Feeling himself start to get light headed, he pushed away from her, only to have his hand gently knocked back. He thought he could see a dark shape coming over the Mediwitch’s shoulder, but as his vision started to go a bit grey he thought it was just him passing out.

And then suddenly he was flipping through the air and landed with a splash in the water. Harry took a few glorious breaths before popping his head back out. Pomfrey was whirling on Professor Snape, looking furious, but he just crossed his arms and murmured something. Her face went contrite and she turned back to Harry, looking very sorry. He grinned at her, not terribly bothered. 

What bothered him was Draco snickering from under his own blanket.

Harry made his way over to the other boy, who was still chuckling as he kneeled down to talk to him. “Oh, Merlin. You should have seen her face when Professor Snape sent you flying like that. I thought she was going to hex him.” 

“Yeah, well, it’s a lot less fun when you’re drowning in air.” Harry responded, rolling his eyes. Draco didn’t even have the grace to look apologetic, and simply fluttered his eyelashes at Harry, copying Pansy at her worst. 

Swooning dramatically, Draco cried - in a gratingly high-pitched voice “Oh, my _hero!_ How shall I ever replay you, good sir knight!” 

Rolling his eyes, Harry reached up and grabbed Draco’s shirt, pulling the other boy down into the water with him. The blonde came up sputtering and very muddy, but not looking as angry as Harry had anticipated. Instead he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Harry’s cheek, making the brunette go bright red. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he gazed up at Snape and saw the proud look on his face, and something that was very nearly a smile, Harry grinned back.

The next to return was Fleur, who had been captured by grindylows and had to be retrieved. She was distraught enough over this to really think that her sister was in danger, until Harry, unable to watch the French girl tear herself to bits, murmured his own thoughts on the subject to her. After that she calmed down enough to agree that Madame Maxime would not let Gabrielle die, and kissed Harry on the cheek in thanks. Draco glared at her the rest of the task, which was half amusing and half irritating.

Next was Cedric, just a minute outside the time limit. Cho Chang was clinging to him like a limpet, looking starry-eyed. Harry looked away, his stomach doing unpleasant things at his own remembered emotions. Luckily, Draco was too busy being jealous over Fleur to notice that and be jealous over both.

Harry was starting to get rather worried when Hermione and a shark-headed Krum emerged from the water. Krum had to be helped out of the self-transfiguration, and Harry felt a bit of awe over the Quidditch star. It took guts to try changing one part of you into something else, much less the _head_. He also noticed Neville holding back a furious looking Ron, who was glaring with all his might at Krum, his expression the exact same one Draco kept shooting at Fleur. 

That was interesting.

Once Krum and Hermione, a few heads of dark green hair bobbed up, carrying the stirring body of Gabrielle. The girl was snatched up by Fleur before even Madame Pomfrey could get to her, and they murmured to each other in frantic French. The Merperson who had been carrying her went up and spoke to Dumbeldore, who evidently understood their language.

Finally, the judges stopped murmuring, and Bagman stood up to announce the winners.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are prepared to announce the final scores! The Champions are awarded points out of fifty. Fleur Delacour demonstrated excellent grasp of the Bubble-Head Charm was defeated by grindylows and therefore was unable to retrieve her hostage. Therefore she earned twenty-five points!” There was a round of polite clapping, and Fleur muttered something into her sister’s hair, who reached up and patted her on the cheek. Her school cheered for her, as well as a number of boys from the other ones.

“Cedric Diggory also used the Bubble-Head Charm, and was able to get his own hostage, though he returned just outside of the time limit.” He was interrupted by wild cheering from the Hufflepuffs. “Therefore he is awarded forty-seven points.”

“Viktor Krum attempted a difficult self-Transfiguration. He was only partially successful in the change, but it was nevertheless very effective. However, he arrived last out of the Champions and well outside of the limit. Therefore, he earned forty points.” There was loud cheering from the Durmstrang stands, and Karkaroff looked rather smug as he applauded hard.

Pausing dramatically, Bagman turned to look at Harry. “Finally we have Harry Potter. He used gillyweed, and managed to return long before it wore off. He was the first to arrive at the camp and the first to arrive back, forty-eight minutes in. Therefore, we award him forty-nine points!” 

Harry grinned. He was still in first place! Draco grabbed him an a hug and looked very smug indeed, and he could see Pansy and Blaise waved excitedly in the stands. Hermione gave him an encouraging grin before returning her attention to Krum, who looked rather put out. He wondered where that last point had gone and saw Karkaroff looking rather disgruntled.

Waving a hand to settle everyone, Bagman continued. “The final task will be at dusk on June twenty-fourth. Champions, you will be informed of the challenge a month before the task. Be sure to support your Champions!” With that he stepped down, and Harry felt a wave of relief.

Nothing else to worry about until the end of the school year, Draco at his side and a solid first place.

It was a good day indeed.


	13. Ready, Set, Go

The weekend followed by Valentine’s day was a zoo in Hogsmeade. The February rains had settled in deep and pelted all the students who dared leave the warm shops and pubs. Harry and Draco, unlike the rest of the lovesick couples, were tromping around in the rain. Draco was garnering much amusement from Harry’s umbrella while Harry kept jabbing at Draco who seemed to be waterproof. 

The two of them were standing outside of Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop and failing miserably at keeping a straight face. They couldn’t see the inside of the shop due to the windows being mysteriously and overly fogged up. Yet couples ran haphazardly through the rain, screeching before darting inside. Or couples would walk out arm in arm, happily dazed, uncaring about the downpour. Perhaps the most amusing bit, aside from the puffing, powder pink plumes of steam that wafted out when the door was open, was that Pansy had elbowed Blaise into going in. 

“D’you want to go inside?” Harry asked, shifting his umbrella from one hand to the other. 

Draco sent him a look. “Why?”

“So we can secretly observe Blaise and mock him for later.”

Draco stroked his chin, looking thoughtful. “The idea has merit. How can I be sure this isn’t some sort of ploy to attempt to be overly affectionate?”

“Because I lack the oestrogen and insanity to be Pansy.” Harry shifted from foot to foot. “I’m freezing. Can we just go inside? If it gets to be too much we can leave and get a butterbeer and you can mock my supposedly affectionate tendencies for a week.”

Draco forced out an over dramatic sigh before he gave a nod. “Very well. If only to stop you from looking like a drowned rat.”

They walked inside and removed their coats and Harry deposited his umbrella in the stand before the two of them turned to look at the shop. Both of them froze, though if it was out of shock of fear, neither could be sure. The entire place looked like one of those tacky valentine’s had exploded everywhere. It was so garishly _pink_ and white and frilly and lacy. Despite looking small from the outside, the shop went on for quite a bit and had lots of tables occupied and well spaced out. Harry elbowed Draco when he spotted Pansy and Blaise by a window. Blaise’s hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee and he was looking at Pansy with hooded eyes and a half smile. 

Harry prayed it was the atmosphere. 

A small, plump, far too cheerful witch wearing powder pink robes with hearts and flowers bounced over to them. Draco’s strong grip on his arm was the only thing that kept Harry from screeching and running out of the door into the rain. If they were going to suffer through this, they were going to do it together.

“Hello, dears. Private table?”

Draco somehow managed a complete straight face. “If you would.”

They were led through the narrow shop past couples who paid them no heed towards a smokey, dimly lit corner booth. They slid into place on the padded, velvet lined bench seats and were handed two small menus before the woman bustled off happily.

“I hope you’re enjoying this,” Draco muttered, glaring at his menu.

“Immensely. Come on, have a laugh. At least we’re warm and dry. Just promise to smack me if I start acting like Blaise.” 

As Draco examined his menu, Harry watched the shop from over top of his own. There were several older year students snogging in corners, or over table tops. Younger students were staring at each other with moon-eyes and holding hands. Harry spotted Daphne and Nott at a table, he averted his gaze quickly. He grinned with amusement at the sight of Seamus and Dean not far off from them, sitting quietly in place, holding hands on the table top and resting their heads together, talking softly. His gaze stopped when he spotted Cho and Cedric curled up near the window. Cedric’s arm was wrapped easily around her shoulder in a way that didn’t look forced and her head rested lightly on his shoulder as he read from a book quietly to her. Harry smiled faintly at the image, before he pushed his gaze onward. He gave a choked laugh at the sight of Millicent sitting in a booth alone, her feet propped up on the bench and reading from a book in her lap as she sipped her tea. Every so often one of the attending witches would walk over to her and she would glare until they left. 

“Have you made your decision, dears?”

Harry jumped and looked at the witch, who smiled cheerily at him. “Oh, I’ll have hot chocolate, thank you. And I’ll have sticky toffee pudding.”

“And for you?”

“I’ll have a mulled cider, hot. And blackberry apple crumble, with clotted cream.”

The witch hummed and then walked off. Harry waited a moment before lightly tugging on Draco’s hand. The blonde shot him a look before taking his hand with a faint smile and tangled their fingers together. Harry shifted a little before sidling up to Draco and resting against him easily. 

Draco chuckled and nosed at his hair. “Romantic.”

“You like this, don’t lie.”

Harry ignore the pinch to his side and in turn butted his head lightly at Draco’s chin. The blonde gave no verbal reply, but nuzzled into his hair again.

Harry blamed the atmosphere.

~*~

A loud crack echoed through the Common Room as Pansy dropped her Astronomy textbook onto the table. Startled, Harry jerked his head up to stare at her. She groaned and rubbed at her temples. “I hate this assignment.” She grumbled.

Snorting, Draco turned the page, eyeing her over the book. “Would you like to take a break, Pansy?” In response, she crumbled up one of her discarded papers and tossed it at his head. “Apparently yes.” He put his own book down, eyes bright. “Let’s go the kitchens. I’ve been dying to visit since my parents told us how to get in.”

Harry put his own book aside. “You think they’ll have leftovers or something?”

Giving Harry a dry looks, Draco drawled, “One day we are going to fix all the damage the Muggle world did to you. Honestly. You’ve been living at the Manor for years now. You know the House-elves can fix up anything in no time at all.”

Bristling, Harry threw a pillow at him. “Prat. I was thinking that these are _school_ House-elves. They might not follow our orders.”

Draco tossed the pillow back, and Pansy grabbed it before a war could break out. “Would you two stop this stupidity and can we go get something to eat? Honestly, I thought you would quit it now that you’re together.”

She was bombarded with two pillows in retaliation.

The kitchen weren’t very far from the dungeons, thankfully, and it was just quick trip under the cloak (which was really starting to get too small for all of them). They came across a truly gigantic picture of a bowl of fruit and Draco had to reach up on tip-toes to tickle the pear.

“Who exactly painted a picture of some fruit that big? And why the pear?” Harry asked as they door swung open.

Pansy and Draco both eyed him. “Why do you ask question that you know don’t have satisfying answers?” Pansy asked.

Giving a shrug, Harry looked away. “I was just wondering.”

The kitchen itself was bustling with House-elves. Harry stilled, somewhat afraid that he would trip over one and crush it or something. Upon noticing them, the House-elves became ecstatic, greeting them like they’d never been happier to see someone. When asked for a snack, they were bombarded by various treats. Munching on an eclair, Harry roamed his eyes around the room, amused by the excitable creatures. In the sea of hustle and bustle, one spot of stillness stuck out quite a lot.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked the still House-elf, who was slumped n a stool next to the fire. Her head slowly picked up, and Harry recognized her. “You’re that one house-elf! Winky?”

The House-elf, tilted her head at him, looking absolutely drunk. As he watched she took a swig from a bottle of butterbeer, but it was empty. She dropped it carelessly and it rolled away, where a few other house-elves chased after it, looking disgusted.

A few murmurs, none of them very polite, came from the surrounding elves, who otherwise ignored her. Draco came up, looking curious. “Oh, you’re Crouch’s old elf. Not been getting on well, then. I don’t suppose you’ve got any information on the guy. Maybe something about that mysterious illness they’re talking about in _the Daily Prophet_. Honestly, ‘mysterious illness’. Can’t a bloke just be sick anymore? I get that’s been a while, but really. It’s so drama-”

“Master is -hic- ill?” Winky asked, practically falling forward as she stared at them with wide eyes.

Pansy made her way over, shrugging at Winky. “That’s what the paper says, anyway. Not that it’s good to put any stock into what that rag says. He’s stopped coming to the events, one way or another.”

This made the house-elf tremble as she stared up at the students. “No, no! Master is needing his Winky! Master cannot -hic- handle without -hic- his Winky.”

A low snicker came from Draco and Harry stared at him. “Sorry, it just sounds like she’s saying ‘binkie’, what with how she’s slurring. And then I imagined Crouch with a binkie, and-” He was cut off as both Harry and Pansy both elbowed him.

“He was trusting Winky!” She went on, oblivious to the students inattention. “Trusting Winky with -hic- his most important secret!”

A look of calculation entered Pansy’s eyes. “I don’t believe you!” She declared dramatically, sticking her nose in the air. “A sad sack like you, be trusted with your Master’s most important secrets? Ha!”

Winky stood up straight in her chair, looking outraged. “Winky was -hic- a good elf! Master was trusting Winky with all of -hic- his most important knowledges! Like -hic... like...” With that Winky passed out cold onto the floor.

“Damn.” Pansy muttered, as the other house-elves moved to cover Winky up and clean up the area around her. They mumbled apologies over her behavior and then shooed them out with all the food they could carry.

When the portrait closed behind them, Pansy sighed. “So we didn’t find out Crouch’s important secret _and_ I still have to do that assignment? Did anything good come out of tonight?”

“Chocolate.” Harry said matter-of-factly, biting into another eclair.

“I knew we were friends for a reason.”

Draco snorted. “Yeah, because we somehow manage to put up with you.”

~*~ 

Harry sighed as he rubbed at his shoulders. He had been helping Snape relabel and restock his shelves all afternoon. It had turned out to be a good thing too, because they had noticed some of the stores had been missing. Severus had frowned and made a note, but didn’t say anything further. Harry wondered if Snape did this sort of spring cleaning every year, or if boredom had simply made him change Harry’s routine. Still...

Harry took the muscle relaxing potion and lounged on a bench in the tepid May air while waiting for the others to come. Two months had flown by rapidly and they were now being told what the third and final task was going to be. They had been told to meet in the courtyard around five. 

Harry looked up when he heard movement and waved to Cedric. The other waved back but didn’t look as sunny as usual. Harry sat up and peered at his friend - he could say that now, he and Draco had finally agreed upon a non-judgemental friendship agreement. They had it in writing. 

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Like hell it isn’t.”

“Cho and I had a fight. She hasn’t told her parents about us being together and we had a huge row.”

Harry frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Maybe she’s worried her parents will try and break the two of you up? I don’t know much about her, to be honest, but maybe she has a traditional family?”

“Dunno. Maybe.” Cedric shifted, looking uncomfortable. “So, what d’you reckon the last task will be?”

“Hermione, Blaise and Millicent all say the last task has to do with logic and something about facing ourselves?.”

“A duel, maybe?”

Harry hadn’t thought of that. He frowned before looking over as Bagman, Dumbledore, Fleur and Krum all joined them. Bagman was beaming but refused to say anything. Instead, he beckoned for them to draw closer. Harry and Cedric stood up and joined everyone in the huddle. 

“This last task is one of skill and logic. It’s designed to push you in ways you’ve never been pushed. To explore the heart of who you truly are...” Dumbledore’s voice was low. 

Harry frowned deeper. That definitely sounded like combat. 

Bagman was flashing his winning smile again. “It’s the most brilliant idea we’ve ever had! It’s a maze!” 

Harry’s brows furrowed and then rose. He was confused and clearly he wasn’t the only one.

“Sir,” Cedric started, “how is a maze a test of skill? Logic I can understand but...”

“It isn’t a normal maze, dear boy!” Bagman clapped Cedric on the shoulder and Cedric shot him a look. “This one is filled...” He paused dramatically and then attempted to lower his booming voice. “With _monsters_.”

Krum made a noise of irritation. “You be sending us into maze with creatures and no vay out?”

“Zat ees insane!”

Bagman shushed them. “There will be precautions, I assure you, but for now, that is all I can say.”

Harry watched as he strode off, followed by a rather flustered and perturbed looking Dumbledore before he sank into his spot on the bench again. How was he supposed to fight off creatures he probably didn’t even know existed?

Cedric and Fleur made their way towards the carriage and Hogwarts respectively, both looking rather disturbed, but Krum tapped Harry lightly on the shoulder. “Could I speak vith you?”

Blinking up at the huge boy, Harry nodded, if a bit wearily. “Alright.”

“Vill you valk vith me?” He added.

Now some alarm bells were going off in Harry’s head, and he narrowed his eyes. “Why not talk here? There’s no one else around.”

Looking down at him, Krum answered shortly. “I do not vish to be overheard.” He must have picked up on the distrust in Harry’s eyes because he suddenly shook his head. “Not like that. I vish to talk to you about Hermy-own-ninny.”

“Oh.” Harry stood up and shook the dirt off, eyeing the huge boy. “Alright then. Let’s walk along the lake, then.” He figured someone had to be nearby - Draco and Pansy were probably wondering where he was, if nothing else - and that would be a nice, visible place to find him.

Krum nodded and they followed the edge of the Black Lake alongside the crude corral where the great horses were starting to nod off. “Hermy-own-ninny says you are good friends.”

Shrugging, Harry smiled a bit. “I suppose. Not as good as Ron or Neville, obviously - those three have been best friends for nearly five years now - but I’d say we get on. Why?”

“I vas just vondering...” The boy trailed off, sounding awkward. Harry started a bit. So far he’d viewed Krum as a International Quidditch Star, or some scary opponent he’d have no chance against on his own. It was strange to see him as just a guy. And one with serious feelings for Hermione, it would seem. “She is very close vith those two. Have they been... together before?”

Harry thought about it for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t think so, no.” Krum gave him a very serious look, and Harry held up his hands in defense. “Try to remember that we’re fourteen, okay? Most of us are just starting at having relationships and stuff like that. Neville is with Ginny Weasley, I think, and Ron hasn’t been with anyone that I know of.” He paused, not sure if he should continue, but decided to barrel on. Full disclosure would be best for everyone in the long run. “I think he might like her, to be honest.” Here Krum looked very severe indeed, and Harry barreled on. “But I’ve seen her with you in the library and after the second task. She seemed really happy. I don’t think he’d do anything and ruin that for her. Gryffindors, you know?”

That looked like it satisfied Krum, and he nodded, staring off into space. By this point they were almost to the forest, and a burst of sudden movement made Harry take a wary step backward, snatching his wand out of his pocket.

The larger boy whirled around, surprised. “Vot is it?”

Before Harry could respond, a man stumbled out of the forest, reaching for them. He was absolutely ragged looking, and so it took a few seconds for Harry to recognize him. It was Mr. Crouch.

The man was not quite right, however. He was murmuring to himself and gesturing like he was giving some sort of impassioned speech. The way he spoke reminded Harry of a tramp that used to be around Privet Drive sometimes, as well as a few that he’d seen in Paris. In short, he looked absolutely insane.

“Isn’t he from your Ministry? The judge?” Krum asked, staring at the man.

Harry hesitated and then nodded at him, feeling vaguely horror struck at the sight. There was something instinctively upsetting about being around someone who was insane and quite possibly violent, which was far worse when he recognized them. “Mr. Crouch?”

It took several minutes for the man to stop ranting at a mysterious ‘Weatherby’ about the tournament. When he did rouse from it, Harry almost wished he’d stayed that way.

“Dumbledore! I need to see Dumbledore!” Crouch suddenly gasped, grabbing onto Harry’s robes. Harry tried to reassure him that he’d go get Dumbledore if he’d just let go, but Crouch didn’t seem to hear him. Finally he lapsed back into Weatherby rants, and Harry was able to get himself loose and gaze in fright at Krum, who looked just as disturbed. “Look over him, okay? I know where Dumbeldore’s office is.”

The older boy looked like he’d rather do anything else, “He is crazy.” Krum stated, almost mildly, but did not protest.

Harry bolted off to the castle, and made it up to the office in record time. When he reached the stone gargoyle he froze.

He didn’t know the password.

Pacing in frantic circles, Harry tried to figure out what it could be. Pansy had once told him rumors that he used Muggle candies but that was rather silly for a password. Not to mention he didn’t have the time to sit around guessing candies. He decided to run down to the staffroom to see if one of the teachers were there and could let him in, but as he started down that way, a dark form came around the corner. 

“Mr. Potter!” Snape blinked at him, taking in his frantic state. “What’s the matter?”

Panting heavily, Harry gasped out, “Dumbledore! I need to see him.” He paused to take a few gulping breaths. “Mr. Crouch, from the Ministry... He just showed up on the grounds. He’s absolutely barking!”

For a moment Snape just stared at him before he nodded. He started towards the gargoyle, but before he got there the wall slid open and Dumbledore came out, wearing bright green robes and tilting his head curiously. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Professor!” Harry gasped, “Mr. Crouch was in the forest, and he’s mad, talking about warning you or something and Krum is with him and he wanted to speak with you.”

Thankfully, Dumbledore didn’t ask questions, and asked Harry to lead the way, as he and Snape followed. “What did he say, Harry?”

Thinking back to the ravings, and trying to pick out the important bits, Harry said, “Something about warning you, and having done something terrible. I think he might have mentioned a name... Bertha James? Something like that. And I think he mentioned Voldemort at some point.” He shook his head. “Sorry, sir, but it’s hard to tell. He wasn’t being very clear.”

Dumbeldore was moving quite impressively for an old man, and each of his strides were long and sure. Harry had to keep up. The three of them made their way down to the spot next to the forest where he’d left Krum and Crouch.

No one was there.

“Oh hell,” Harry murmured as Dumbledore lit his wand, moving it in a slow arch around the area. At first it picked up nothing but trees and rocks, but then they spotted a pair of feet.

Krum was laying on the ground, clearly stunned. Harry shirted uncomfortably, wondering if there was something he should do, but a hand settled on his shoulder. He gazed up to see that Snape wasn’t looking at him, but the hand tightened in a comforting gesture. Harry resisted the urge to lean into it.

A quick ‘ennervate’ woke Krum up, who immediately snarled angrily about how Crouch had attacked him. Dumbledore shushed him and cast a quick, silvery spell towards Hagrid’s hut. It was only a minute before the thunderous footfalls of the half-giant made themselves known.

Dumbeldore started to send him after Karkaroff then Moody, but a gruff voice interrupted. “No need, Dumbledore, I’m already here.” The ex-auror was limping towards them, face stern. Hagrid disappeared to get Karkaroff. 

“I need you to find Crouch. It is essential that we find him.” Dumbledore told him, and Moody nodded before heading into the forest.

There was silence for a moment, before Snape said, “Headmaster, I believe this is no place for Mr. Potter.”

Nodding, Dumbledore eyed the forest before turning to Snape. “Good thinking, Severus. If you would escort Harry back to Hogwarts that would be wonderful.” With that he turned his attention back to Krum.

Snape lead Harry back towards the castle. A few times Harry opened his mouth to ask just what was _going on_ , but the look on Snape’s face warded off all his questions.

He was dropped back off at his dorms by a unusually chilly Snape, whose mind seemed to be far away, working on this latest problem, before the man slipped back down the hallway. He stayed out there for a moment, gazing at the professor’s retreating back, before slipping inside to tell his friends about what he’d seen.

~*~

_The night air was cool and the sky deep black and dotted with stars. Harry was unsure of how he was doing this, but then again, magic, it seemed, could do everything. He was swooping down now and he spotted a how. A little old house. He was suddenly inside of it and he looked around in fright. He knew this place and he didn’t like it._

_There was something new, however, a snake. It was long. Longer than Ananta was, and different. Harry would bet that they were different kinds of snakes. He pressed against the wall as the snake wound past him. Slithering it’s way into an open door. He heard the familiar, muffled sound of Parseltongue but couldn’t make out the words._

_He approached the room slowly. It was dimly lit by a fire and he clenched his fists at the sight of Wormtail. The dingy, cowardly looking man was huddled before a chair, speaking and mumbling. He kept prostrating himself on the dirty floor and trembling. The snake coiled around his knees and wove around the wing-backed chair, clearly delighting in his fear._

_There was a raspy conversation but Harry couldn’t understand the words. They were garbled and sparse with long pauses between them. He caught a few words - Jerkins; dead; punishment - and then Wormtail was screaming. He was rolling about the floor, curled up in agony while screaming and pleading._

Harry shot up off the floor. His whole body ached and his head and scar were throbbing painfully. His breathing was shallow and quick and his body felt cool with sweat. He sucked in a breath and looked blearily around the classroom. The table he had been sitting at with Blaise was knocked over, the tarot deck that had been sitting on their table was now strewn about the floor. 

“Wha...” Harry started, his mouth felt dry and his throat was raw. “What happened?”

Everyone was looking at him. _Of course_ everyone was looking at him. For the first time in a long time, Harry noticed Millicent actually had emotion on her face, and it was concern. 

“You went rigid...” Blaise started quietly. “Then you toppled over. You started screaming and you jerked about. You weren’t saying words it was just noise... It was almost like being under the Cru--” 

“Tut, tut, tut!” Trelawney waved at Blaise and knelt down next to Harry. “You’ve had a vision, my boy! Your inner eye was open and The Beyond invaded your mind! I know it may be a little disorienting, but it’s perfectly normal. Up you get...” She attempted to heave him up but lost her grip and stumbled back. She blinked down at him and took hold of his arm again. “I know just the cure.”

Harry pushed himself up on wobbling legs and would have toppled over if it hadn’t have been for Blaise shooting out from his seat and holding him up. Harry shot him a grateful look. 

“I think I’ll take him to the Hospital Wing, Professor.” Blaise looked over his shoulder at her. “That way he’ll be lying down if he has another vision.”

Trelawney made a humming noise and nodded rapidly. “Yes! Yes! Very good, my boy.”

Blaise looked at Millicent. “Can you take care of our bags after class?”

Millicent nodded her head once, sharply, before her expression turned back to blank boredom. 

Blaise tugged Harry down the ladder and through the halls towards the Hospital Wing. “What the bloody hell was that?”

“It was like one of my nightmares... It... I’ve never had one when awake before.”

“Merlin, be thankful Draco didn’t see it. He would have flayed half the class.” 

Harry chuckled, knowing it was true and strode into the Hospital. He shooed Blaise off after a minute and watched as the other made a face before leaving. Harry told Pomfrey he had a bad headache. She eyed him before letting him lie down and gave him a potion. He laid there, thinking about the dream - the vision - whatever it had been. After the pain in his head subsided, Harry left and walked to see Dumbledore. 

He stood in front of the gargoyle, going through a list of candies. He had to have been there for at least thirty minutes before finally it opened on “cockroach cluster”. He walked up the stairs before knocking lightly on the door. He waited a long moment before knocking again and then opening the door. 

The office was empty.

“Professor?”


	14. Mists of Avalon

The only answer Harry got was a soft trill from Fawkes.  The phoenix shifted from claw to claw on his perch, stretching out his long neck towards Harry.  Reaching out, Harry gently rubbed the bird’s head, and Fawkes gave a happy little note of contentment.

Once the phoenix was appeased, Harry took the chair in front of the Headmaster’s desk and roamed his eyes around the room.  How had be been able to get in?  Sure he could get past the gargoyle, but shouldn’t Dumbeldore’s office door have been locked?  Harry figured the man planned to be right back, and that put him a bit on edge.

Around him the portraits of past Headmasters and Headmistresses snored loudly (which made Harry a bit suspicious of them), and various baubles and bits around the room swished or their lights blinked.  He didn’t recognize any of the devices, and he wondered just what Dumbledore needed them for.

Nearby, he could see the Sorting Hat on it’s perch next to where Harry knew the weapons of the Founders were hidden.  He thought about trying to talk to the hat to thank it for it’s help two years prior, but it seemed like it was napping peacefully, and it seemed rude to try and wake it.

Below the hat, a bit of silvery light filtered through the crack in the cabinet door.  Curiosity roused,  Harry got up from his chair and made his way over, opening the doors fully.  A little stone basin sat inside, filled with a silvery liquid, which was the source of the light.  Smoke wafted out of it, and it felt cool to the touch.  The sensation was rather refreshing, actually, and Harry ran his fingers over the top of it, carding through the smoke.

As he was pulling his hand back, the tip of his finger touched the liquid.  The silvery strands began to swirl, and then there was a great lurch.

Harry was dragged into the basin by his hand.  Instead of hitting against the bottom of it, he suddenly found himself in what looked like a courtroom filled with a couple hundred witches and wizards.  All of them were talking amongst themselves, and didn’t react to seeing a young boy suddenly appear in their group.

Looking around, Harry jumped as he realized he was sitting right next to Dumbledore.  He opened his mouth to apologize or explain himself in some way, but the Headmaster didn’t seem to notice his presence.

Something very weird was going on here.

A sense of Deja Vu plagued Harry until he realized that this was just like what he’d experienced in the diary.  Unnerved, he glanced around for some sort of exit or way out, or at least someone who was aware of him, but found nothing.

He was trapped.

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, and a trio of people flanked by two dementors (Harry’s insides went cold, but he didn’t not hear his mother, or feel the need to go for his wand.  It was just remembered discomfort) came in.  The man in the middle looked very bad indeed, and considering the company surrounding him, Harry couldn’t blame him.

As he was settled and bound into a chair in the middle of the room, the man picked up his head and looked around, expression like a cornered animal.  It took nearly a minute before Harry realized it was Karkaroff.

“Igor Karkaroff,” a stern voice began, and Harry turned to see a younger looking Barty Crouch looking down at him from what appeared to be the equivalent of the judge’s stand.  “You have been brought here to present evidence.  This information, you must understand, is very important to us.”

The man sat up and tried to look regal and important, but his haggard apperrance and darting eyes made that impossible.  “I have, sir.  I wish to be all the help I can be in rounding up the Death Eaters.”

Murmurs ran through the crowd, most distrustful and dark.  Not too far from Dumbledore, the younger but still very distinct form of Mad-Eye Moody gumbled darkly about tracking him down and how Crouch was just going to _let him go_ and he should just be thrown to the dementors.  Dumbledore looked disapproing, and they got into a short discussion about the use of the creatures before Crouch interrupted them, demanding names.

Karkaroff muttered some excuses about the Dark Lord preventing the Death Eaters from knowing each others identities, and Moody growled, “Get on with it!”  Harry quite agreed.

“But you say you’ve got _some_ names for us?”  Crouch asked.

Panting, Karkaroff nodded.  “I do.  And these were the important ones, mind you.  People I saw with my own eyes following his commands.  The fact that I’m telling you this shows just how far I have renounced him-”

Making a impatient noise, Crouch asked sharply, “These names are?”

“Antonin Dolohov.  He tortured so many Muggles and non-supporters,”  
“We have already apprehended Dolohov. He was taken in shortly after you.”

A little noise of distress came from Karkaroff.  “Indeed?  I - I am delighted to hear it.”  His tone was so utterly detached from his words that Harry rolled his eyes.  Crouch coldly demanded he continue, and Karkaroff swallowed before blurting out, “Rosier!  Evan Rosier was there.”

Crouch looked even more impatient as he stared down at the captured man.  “Dead.  He perfered to go down fighting, and died in the struggle.”

To the right of Harry, Moody darkly added, “Took a bit of me with him.”  Turning, Harry saw that the man was tapping at his mangled nose for Dumbledore’s benefit.

Panic was beginning to enter Karkaroff’s tone.  “No more than he deserved!”’  He managed, eyes darting around the room again.  His gaze came to rest on the door, where the dementors were no doubt waiting for him.  “Travers!  He helped to murder the McKinnons!  And there was Mulciber - good hand at the Imperious Curse, I’ll tell you - and Rookwood who was a spy for this very Ministry!”

Murmurs erupted again from around the room, and Karkaroff realized he had hit his target.  “Rookwood?”  Crouch eyed a nearby witch, who was already scribbling frantically on some parchment.  “Of the Department of Mysteries?”

Eagerly, he confirmed this, babbling on about passing information from the Ministry.  His high faded quickly as Crouch cooly noticed that Travers and Muliciber had already been caught and that  Karkaroff would be sent back to Azakaban while they deliberated.

“Snape!”  He shouted frantically, jerking away from the wizards who came to collect him.  “Severus Snape!”

Something in Harry went cold.  He _knew_ this already.  From the horse’s mouth, in fact.  However, he could not shake the shock that gripped his heart at the name.  He wondered if this was how Draco had felt after the World Cup.

While he recovered, first Crouch and then Dumbledore vouched for Snape, before a frantic Karkaroff was dragged off and the world around Harry dissolved away...

And then the dungeon returned.  The light had shifted, and Harry was now on the opposite side of the courtroom.  Rita Skeeter sat near-by, her quill practically quivering as it floated beside her.

The first person to be tried was a younger Ludo Bagman, who looked like just as much an idiot back then, though admittedly a much more handsome idiot.  His crime was passing on information to the Death Eater’s - he apparently passed it on through Rookwood.  Bagman claimed he’d had no idea, and that the Unspeakable was an old family friend who he’d just been innocently talking to.  Harry thought he was probably not at fault for being anything but dim and a bit too trusting, and the court evidently agreed with him (thought Harry thought that had a lot more to do with the fact that the man was a Quiddich star than anything).  

Crouch got more and more foul tempered as the trial went on, displeased that Bagman was going free.  Harry thought that the man just wanted to convict people more than he wanted justice.

After Bagman left, cleared of charges, the courtroom went silent.  The door opened to allow in six dementors, surrounding a group of four.   There was a man who was built like Filch, a thinner, nervous looking man, and a woman with thick, dark hair and heavy-lidded eyes. She looked vaguely familiar. In the center was a boy, only a few years older than Harry.  His hair was the colour of straw and he was pale as a ghost.  Beside Crouch, a tiny looking woman sobbed softly and began to shake.

Crouch stood to address the group.  His face was twisted in pure hatred.  “You have been brought here so that we may pass judgement for your heinous crimes-”

“Father,” said the teen.  “Father, please...”

The man acted like he didn’t hear the words at all, barreling through his speech.  “The four of you have been accused of capturing an auror and his wife - Frank and Alice Longbottom - and subjecting them to the Cruiatus Curse for information on the whereabouts of You-Know-Who until they were driven insane.”

Shrieking, the boy began to pull frantically at the chains he was bound with.  “Father!  Father, I didn’t!  I swear it, please don’t send me back!”

“I now ask the jury-”

“Mother!  Mother, please stop him!   Mother, mother I beg of you, please!  I didn’t do it, you have to believe me!  It wasn’t me!”

Shouting over his son’s sobbing pleas, Crouch said, “I now ask the jury to raise their hands if they believe, as I do, that these criminals deserve to spend the rest of their lives in Azakaban.”

As one, every person in the group raised their hands.  The crowd clapped, looking viciously satisfied as the boy began to scream harder, a small trickle of blood seeping from where the chains had rubbed his skin raw.  “Mother!  No, Mother!  I didn’t do it!  I didn’t know!  Mother, help me, don’t send me there!”

Dementors glided back into the room and started to herd the prisoners back out.  That familiar woman looked Crouch straight in the eye and declared that the Dark Lord would rise again and then they’d be sorry.  In direct contrast to the woman’s quiet confidence, the boy screamed all the harder and tried to fight off the dementors.  He was dragged away, and his voice began to fade a bit.

“I think that it is time we returned to my office, Harry.”  A hand landed on his shoulder, and Harry jumped and turned to see a grave looking Dumbledore behind him.  The Headmaster put a hand below the boy’s elbow, and then they were rising up and back into his office.

Turning to look at the old man, Harry stared at him with wide, guilty eyes.  “I’m sorry, sir!  I didn’t mean to do that - I just saw that thing and the mist felt nice and I accidentally touched it.”  He swallowed.  “I wasn’t trying to snoop, honest.”

Blue eyes gazed down at him softly as Dumbledore nodded.  “I understand.”  He motioned to the basin with his wand.  “I imagine it must have been quite the shock.”

Now that his panic had passed, Harry frowned down at it.  “What is it, sir?”

“This is a pensive.  It allows one to put their excess thoughts into it and then search for patterns and links.  It is easier to spot them in this form.”

Gazing down at the silvery liquid with a bit of shock, Harry took a step back from it.  “Those are thoughts?”

Dumbledore smiled a bit.  “Certainly.  Let me show you.”  With that he placed his wand to his temple and pulled it away.  Attached was a silvery strand, like a wet thread, which clung to the tip before falling into the basin with the others.  The Headmaster picked up the basin and swirled it, like he was shifting the contents to search for something buried within.  Professor Snape’s face appeared within it, and Harry could just barely hear his voice.  “...Coming back... Karkaroff’s too... Stronger...”

A small light appeared behind Dumbledore’s eyes.  “A connection I would not have made without this.  Do you understand?  I was using the pensive when the Minister arrived and asked to see where Crouch had disappeared.  You must have just missed us.  No doubt I failed to closed the cabinet properly in my haste, and I’m afraid it was my mistake that caught your attention.”  Harry shifted uncomfortably, and Dumbledore smiled in a very Grandfatherly sort of way.  “Do not curse your curiosity, my boy.  However, a bit of caution would not be amiss.”

Frowning just a bit, Dumbledore prodded the surface of the liquid with his wand.  A tiny figure sprang up from it.  Within a second, the form of a teenage girl, looking around 16, began speaking.  “He put a hex on me!  I as only teasing, because I’d seen him kissing Florence behind the greenhouse last Thursday...”

Dumbledore gazed at the figure sadly.  “Bertha, Bertha.  Why did you need to follow him in the first place?”

The name rang a bell in Harry’s head.  “Bertha? Is that Bertha Jorkins?”

“It is indeed, as I remember her from her school days.”  The Headmaster tapped his wand against the basin, and the figure melted away.  “Now, Harry, I do believe you had a reason to speak with me?”

Nodding, Harry relayed to him what he could remember of his strange dream, which sadly wasn’t much.  “And then my scar started to hurt so badly that I woke up.”  He shifted a bit, pressing his fingers to his forehead.

Gazing at him seriously, Dumbledore asked, “Similar to the way it hurt over the summer?”  Harry started, staring at the Headmaster.  How did he know that?  The man chuckled a bit at his expression.  “You do not think yourself Sirius’ only correspondent, do you?”  A spark of betrayal clung at Harry’s heart.  How could Sirius?  Why did he go around Harry’s back like that?  While most of him felt hurt, a little bit of him sighed in relief.  At least it hadn’t been Snape.  

Once he was in control of himself, Harry asked, “Do you know why my scar has been hurting me?”

Dumbledore looked very serious as he searched Harry’s face.  “I have a theory that you feel pain when Voldemort is feeling very strong emotions.  That scar is nothing ordinary, Harry.”

Yeah, that hadn’t been the answer Harry was hoping for.  Swallowing hard, Harry asked, “So the dream happened then?”

“It’s possible.”  Dumbledore returned, eyes dark with sorrow.  Slowly, Harry nodded.  His mind ran over all the information he’d just picked up in such a short amount of time.  A pensive of his own would be rather helpful right then.  He needed space to take it all in.

Before he could say anything, Dumbeldore gave him a grave look.  “I must ask you not to spread what you have learned today.  Some of the information you gained was either very sensitive or very personal.”  He didn’t elaborate, and all Harry could do was stare at the Headmaster.  Of _course_ he wasn’t going to be spreading this around.  And what did he mean, personal?

A second later, the answer came to him.  The Longbottoms.

Neville.

Okay then.  Harry could live with that.  He gave a sharp nod.  “Yes, Professor.”  Standing up, Harry made his way to the door, but was interrupted by Dumbledore.

“One more thing, Harry.”  He turned to look at the Headmaster, who gave him a smile.  “Good luck in the third task.”

~*~  
The day of the task arrived to sunny, favourable warmth and clear skies.  Harry spent a the morning huddled in a ball under his covers cursing the world.  He finally braved his way down to the Great Hall when he heard people leaving for lunch and took a spot beside Millicent and watched as his plate filled with food.  He poked at it before slowly beginning to eat.  He was so nervous that he could barely taste anything, let alone enjoy it.  Across from him Pansy offered up a soft, attempting calming smile and Harry returned it as best he could.  

He had been preparing as best he could to fight off magical creatures.  He learned how to amplify his stunning spells and he was able to cast a patronus easier.  He still had problems with rudimentary shield charms, but he was definitely working on it.  For the first half of the sessions he had been working with Snape he had practiced with Ananta to ground himself and focus his power.  Then, since the snake sadly wasn’t allowed in with him to the maze, Harry began practicing without.  

He asked everyone he knew to help him practice.  Even if it meant sending unannounced spells at him.  He needed to ramp up his defensive strategies.

Five days after the unusual duelling started Millicent sent a strong binding jinx after him.  Harry not only managed to deflect it, but managed to react as well and sent a strong “impedamenta” her way.  She managed to dodge the blast, which instead knocked over a chair and looked at him with undisguised pride on her face along with a bit of confused shock.

“Potter, since when have you casted in Parsletongue?”

“I... What?”

They bowed to each other and Millicent advanced towards him.  She brushed back a particularly rambunctious curl and blinked at him.  “You cast that at me in Parseltongue.”  

Harry’s brows shot up.  He hadn’t even focused on the language.  Since for as long as he could remember he had to be concentrating to speak Parseltongue.  “Do I do it all the time?”

“No.  This is the first time I heard it.  I mean... I’ve heard you do it with your Oroboros before...”  Millicent tapped a finger against her chin but didn’t finish her sentence. 

Now Harry was slowly chewing while reminding himself of different ways to guard against various creatures.  He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned towards it.  He shot Draco a smile and leaned back into the hand, touching his cheek to it briefly.  Draco squeezed his shoulder. 

“Want me to quiz you after lunch?”

Harry watched as Draco displaced a third year student and sat next to him.  “I’d like that.  Just to make sure I have it all down...”

Draco nodded his head and silently took his free hand.  With Draco grounding him, Harry found it much easier to eat.

After lunch, Harry was sitting at a far table in the Common Room with various things around him.  Draco took the seat in front of him, looking impressed.  

“Just a few more...”  Draco insisted, and Harry nodded his head.  “What’s the spell Granger taught you for the maze?”

Harry laid his wand across his upturned, flat palm.  “Point Me.”  His wand spun wildly in his palm for a long moment before the tip glowed gently and settled pointing North.

“Good.  That one’s bloody useful.  I wonder if she made it herself...”  Draco stood and laid a cushion on the floor.  “Break it.”

Harry took a deep breath and pointed his wand.  “Reducto!”  The cushion exploded, sending goose feathers everywhere. 

“Reparo!”  

Harry’s head snapped up at the voice and a tired, pleased smile broke over his face.  “Narcissa!  And Mr. Malfoy!”

“You think we’d miss the Final Task?”  Narcissa stooped down and picked up the cushion Lucius had repaired before plumping it lightly and sitting down in a comfortable chair, tucking it behind her back.  “And a little tip, Harry.  That spell, the one you cast, is good for getting through pesky things like barriers... In say... a hedge maze?”

Harry laughed softly and rubbed at the back of his head.  Only Narcissa would calmly and eloquently give him pointers on how to cheat his way through the walls of a maze.  

“Last one,”  Draco’s soft voice intoned.  “Shield.”

Harry nodded and took a deep breath.  “Protego!”  A silvery-clear glow spouted from his wand and made a convex dome that bubbled over his arm like a long, oblong shield over his neck to his knees.  Harry waved his wand with a mutter and then it was gone. 

“I’d say you were sufficiently prepared.”  Lucius looked almost proud.  

“Oh.  I’ve forgotten one.  I haven’t cast my patronus in two weeks...”

Narcissa looked startled.  “I beg your pardon?”  

“My patronus...”  Harry looked sheepish.  “I learned it last year because of all of the dementors because of Sirius Black...”

Lucius’ brows were risen, looking quite impressed.  “Well, let’s see it.”

Draco settled back.  He had heard Harry could cast it, but he had yet to actually see it.  He expected it looked the same as all other shield patroni; smokey silver with a cloudy look to them.  Harry took a long breath and closed his eyes.  He raised his wand and made a long curlicue.  “Expecto Patronum.”

He opened his eyes and watched as the misty glow jetted from his wand and curled up and around before long a decent sized spotted hyena was sitting next to his chair leg making silent yipping laughs.  The Malfoys stared at it in a mixture of shock and awe.  

“It’s... full bodied,”  Draco finally sputtered out.

“Yeah.  Ever since the end of last year.”

Draco made a choked noise.  “You cast a full bodied one _last year_?”

“Well yeah... there were like twenty dementors and they were all you know...”  Harry waved his arms about, in an attempt to show how they were converging.  “So I cast it and...  What?”

“Harry...”  Narcissa’s voice was low and even as she took her eyes from the patronus.  “I couldn’t cast my first shield patronus until I was twenty-six.”

“I... Really?”  Harry’s distraction finally caused the patronus to flicker before disappearing.  “I mean Professor Snape said it was difficult, but he never said it was that advanced.”

Lucius was quiet as he stared down at the spot where the patronus had been.  “Aside from Severus, no other Death Eater, reformed or not, can cast the charm.”  

Harry opened his mouth to reply, before screwing it shut as the words sunk in deeper.  That meant... Oh... He lowered his eyes slowly.  Of course it made sense.  That much dark magic around made happiness and light magic more than likely impossible.  He wasn’t sure what to say so instead he quietly put his wand aside and stared at his feet.  

Thankfully, the awkward silence didn’t last much longer and was broken by a younger Slytherin student who timidly approached the group.  She was mousy and quite plain, and ducked her head when they all looked at her.  

“Harry Potter is needed to meet with the other Champions outside in the back courtyard.”

Harry nodded and stood.  He let Narcissa hug him first and he hugged her back tightly.  He stood awkwardly with Lucius before finally offering his hand to shake.  He was quite sure the man wasn’t large on hugs.  When Harry rounded to Draco, the taller boy stood and they hugged for a long moment.  Harry wanted to cling.  He smiled faintly when Draco pressed a gentle kiss against his neck.

“Don’t let the Hufflepuff win.”

Harry grinned faintly before slowly pulling away from Draco.  He gave the Malfoys a final look before exiting the Common Room as quickly as he could.

~*~

Harry was getting tired of listening to Bagman talk.  He had changed into his competition uniform.  It was rather like the old sports uniforms they used to make him wear at primary - with trackies and a t-shirt.  His colours were black with a broad green stripe across the middle of his chest and his name was on the back of his shirt.  He laced up his shoes as Bagman trumpeted on about glory and honour and privilege as Madame Pomfrey waved her wand over him to ensure he was in peak performance condition.  

“Of course, we have rules too!”  Bagman boasted.  “The first rule is please, we know that there are dangerous creatures inside the maze, but do not die.  It made sound like a silly rule but this is the first Tournament in a long time and we would like to get through it death free.  If you feel overwhelmed, hold up your wand can cast red sparks up with the charm “periculum”.  The second rule, which I know may also seem like a folly, is no using Unforgivables in the maze.  If you cannot face an enemy, run, or send up your sparks.  Rule three - to win, you must reach the Tri-Wizard Cup in the middle of the maze.  Once you have done so, the maze will open to you and you will be the Champion.  Rule four - no magic enhancing potions, products, charms, or tools are allowed.  This means you are not allowed Felix Felicis, Focus Stones, an Oroboros, or any of the like.  And lastly, have fun!”

Harry snorted and took a drink of his water, ignoring the look Bagman wanted to he sent his way, one of awe, no doubt..  

“Now, each of you will have as long as it takes to complete the task.  Potter will enter first at five  o’clock, then Mr. Diggory at ten past five, Mr. Krum at twenty past five, and Ms. Delacour at half-five.  Each of you has a representative and guardian you may now speak with in preparation for the last five minutes.”

Harry watched as Cedric was joined by his father, Krum by Karakaroff and Fleur by Maxime.  He had no appointed guardian so he merely drank his water quietly before looking up as Snape strode in.  He brightened at sat up straighter. 

“Hullo, sir.”

“Mr. Potter.”  Snape took the chair opposite Harry and sat down.  “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous,”  Harry answered honestly, “but prepared.”  

Snape nodded his head and leaned a bit forward in the chair.  “Word to the wise, do best to remember that the maze is not as it seems.  People sometimes... change... within it’s confines.  Keep your guard up.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply before Dumbledore strode in.  “Can the Champions join me outside the tent, please?”

Harry stood slowly and gave Snape a wan smile.  “It’s been an honour, sir.”

“You are not being taken to the gallows, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes well...”

Snape waved a hand and cut off Harry’s stammering.  “It was my honour.”

Harry grinned far too cheerily before exiting the tent.  The crowd was roaring and stamping.  Harry searched over the stands and found a large section marked out in Slytherin colours, and spotted Draco nestled between his parents.  He offered up a wave along with the other champions and the Slytherin coloured section erupted.  Harry was pleased and warmed at the sight of Ron, Neville, and Hermione squashed in next to Millicent and Pansy.  They were even wearing green (with the exception of Ron who was wearing a transfigured Hufflepuff scarf but waving a Slytherin banner; it seemed he was supporting a Hogwarts victory).  

The whistle sounded and Harry turned from the wild mass of people towards the looming hedge maze.  He watched as it parted and a thick fog misted out.  With a deep breath he advanced inside.


	15. Rat in a Maze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Contains several scenes of fantasy violence. Also, several scenes are dangerously close to the book, by sad necessity. No lines should be direct, but credit to the Queen for much of this chapter regardless.

Harry took off at an easy jog, trying to get a good mental picture of the size of the Quidditch Pitch. Assuming it hadn’t be altered, of course. 

Almost immediately, Harry came to a fork. He had read a few books on the subject of mazes before entering, and remembered something about keeping to the left or right wall. But those had applied to mazes that emptied out on the other side. Did the same rule still apply? And was that the fastest route?

Either way, picking one direction to go in (providing it lead further into the maze or closer to the cup) seemed like a smart choice to avoid getting lost. On whim more than anything, Harry chose left and darted that way, wand out.

A few minutes into the path, and Harry hadn’t found a dead end yet. He wasn’t sure if that was a sign that he was going the right way, or that all the wrong paths were very long. Distantly, Harry heard the whistle blow again, and knew Cedric was entering as well.

When another fork loomed, Harry glanced down both directions. He was starting to get mixed up as to which direction the cup was. He cast a quiet ‘point me’, and his wand span in his palm a few times before settling due north. The cup was in the north-west area, so left it was.

Choosing that path, Harry was surprised to find it quiet as well. Rather than calm him, Harry started to jump at the shadows cast by the setting sun. There was no way this place was empty.

There was a crashing sound ahead of him, and Harry dove to the shadows almost before he’d registered it, ending up crouched in the dark edges of the hedges. He whipped his glasses off to prevent whatever it was from seeing the light reflect off the lenses. Just as he pushed them into the branches, Cedric stumbled out a path ahead, breathing heavily and looking rather scratched up.

The Hufflepuff let out a rather creative curse, directed towards Hagrid’s Blast-Ended Skrewts, and then disappeared through another corner. Once the sounds of the Sixth Year faded away, Harry slipped out of the shadows and placed his glasses back on his face. He kept away from the path that lead to Hagrid’s creatures, and went straight forward, wondering a bit at himself. He didn’t expect Cedric to turn on him or something, did he?

Some little part of Harry assured him that yes, he did. Not only that, but it was best to let Cedric be unaware of his presence, and to let him go first, so that if something horrible was there the Hufflepuff would run into it instead of him.

Harry had really been in Slytherin for too long.

During his distraction, Harry had taken a few left turns, and now he really had no idea which was he was going. He cursed himself and raised his wand to do a Four-Point Spell, when a shiver raced up his spine. Whirling, Harry saw the dark form of a dementor gliding towards him.

Wand up and pointing towards the dementor between one heartbeat and the next, Harry bellowed out ‘Expecto Patronum!’ The hyena burst from his wand and swatted fiercely towards the dementor, but then cocked it’s head and turned to look at Harry with a confused expression.

Glancing between the dementor and patronus, Harry gave a soft ‘oh’. “You’re not a dementor. You’re a boggart!” With a quick spell, the dementor was made up of multi-colored neckerchiefs, and a quick chuckle made it flee.

With one last wave at the patronus, who yawned at him in response, he cancelled the spell and continued on, checking his direction every couple of turns. Left... Left... Right... Left...

Where was everyone?

Where was anything?

Suddenly he stopped in front of a patch of golden mist. It hovered in place, almost ghost-like in it’s translucency. Harry cast a quick Cutting Spell, but it went straight through, which wasn’t a big surprise. It was mist, after all.

A scream cut through the air as Harry tried to make a decision. It sounded like Fleur. Gulping, Harry took a step forward, determined to help, and then a step back, wary. Who knew what she was facing? It could be something terrible, or she simply could have run into that dementor.

Either way, whatever she was up against was right ahead, past that mist.

Harry decided that this was not the direction he wanted to go.

It took a bit of getting around, but soon Harry was back on track towards the cup. He heard no more screams from Fleur, and hoped that meant that she had gotten passed whatever obstacle had frightened her with minimal fuss. Something told him, however, that Fleur had not been successful.

_One down..._ that very dark tone part of him remarked, and Harry shuddered.

The path was again clear, though at one point he had heard scuttling and some heavy thuds from the other side of a hedge. It sounded like one of the Skrewts. From what he figured, Harry would have been about there if he’d gone the path with the mist, and he felt he made the wise choice.

It was a few more turns before Harry saw anything else. In fact, he nearly ran into it. A pity it wasn’t a monster.

Instead he caught sight of Krum standing over a fallen Cedric, his posture almost relaxed as the Hufflepuff asked him just _what he thought he was doing?_ Rather than answer, Krum cast ‘Cruicio’.

Cedric screamed.

Ducking back behind the corner of one of the hedges, Harry’s hands came up almost automatically to cover his ears. Those sounds were more animal than human, and he felt sick.

Eventually they cut off, and Harry could hear Cedric’s harsh panting. The boy slowly stood and backed away from the scene. What was Krum _doing_? Casting the Cruciatus Curse on someone for a stupid tournament? 

There was one thing Harry knew for certain, though. He did not want to get hit by that curse.

Harry started to run down the path he’d come, looking for another turn he could take. Putting as much distance between him and Krum was essential...

Another scream came from Cedric, and Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

_What was he doing?!_

Was Harry really about to abandon Cedric, who he’d been _crushing on_ for so long? Hell, was Harry really about to abandon a person to be tortured because he was scared? Was that the person he was becoming?

Telling the anxious voice in the back of his head to kindly _shove the fuck off_ , Harry cast the Four-Point Spell one more time before taking a couple of turns.

He ended up on the other side of the two, and dove out, wand already pointing towards Krum. “Stupify!” He yelled, and he caught a glimpse of Krum’s glazed eyes before the older boy crumpled to the ground in a heap.

Harry scrambled over to Cedric, who was panting heavily. One of his legs was badly twisted, and he could see blood saturating one side. Swallowing, Harry placed a gentle hand on the Hufflepuff’s chest. “Cedric, can you talk?”

“Yeah.” Cedric gasped out, eyes still tightly shut against the pain. “Don’t think I’ll be winning any competitions, though. That _bastard_! What the hell was that for!”

Being as gentle as possible, Harry tried to move Cedric’s leg a bit to better see the wound. The pained hiss that earned made him freeze and then back away a bit. “Sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I think he was under the Imperious.”

Brown eyes cracked open, expression dry. “You know, that really doesn’t help.”

“Sorry.” Harry repeated, feeling silly and really very guilty. If he’d interfered when he first ran into them...

Shifting slightly, and then giving a choked off gasp of pain, Cedric shook his head. “Nah, don’t apologize to me. I should be saying sorry to you. I saw you when you first stumbled on us. When you disappeared-” He was forced to pause as he gave a pained cough, “-I thought you’d abandoned me. And I thought ‘that slimy, no-good Slytherin’. But you were just finding a better spot to attack him, weren’t you? And I jumped straight to the worst conclusion. So, sorry.”

Guilt clawed at Harry, and part of him wanted to confess to Cedric that he’d been right, and that Harry was a slimy Slytherin. But the older boy’s expression - a mix of guilt and relief and pain - made him stop. 

Telling Cedric that he’d nearly been abandoned wouldn’t help the Hufflepuff. It would only hurt his faith in his friend, and make him feel worse.

Despite the confession that clawed at throat, Harry just gave him a smile. “I couldn’t possibly. That’s a promise.” At least that was the truth. It had just been very, very close.

Cedric smiled back, and Harry knew he’d made the right choice. “Guess I should have more faith in my friends, huh? Hufflepuff loyalty and all that.” Cedric shifted again, and this time didn’t hiss in pain. “Would you get me my wand? I think I’d best bow out here. Not to mention get somebody to collect Kru- Oh, _fuck_!”

Where Krum had been, there was only empty air.

Oh, fuck indeed.

Shoving Cedric’s wand into this hand, he nodded and stood up, taking a step back. Cedric muttered a spell under his breath and a brilliant shower of red bloomed up and arched over the maze, like fireworks. “Good luck, Harry. If Hogwarts doesn’t win, I’ll be quite put out.”

Managing a weak grin, Harry nodded. “Right. Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

Part of Harry wanted to stick around and make sure Cedric got out alright, but he could already hear the commotion of the officials coming to get him, and the knowledge that an Imperio-controlled Krum was nearby made Harry anxious to get moving. With one last little wave, he made his way back down the path he’d been on.

Now every shadow looked twice as dark, and every rustle sounded ominous and ghostly. Harry’s heart was pounding like it wanted to escape his chest, and he rested his left hand over it, as though to keep it in place.

It was a good bit later when he finally caught sight of a shape ahead, and he dove away before he’d identified it. Rather than Krum’s blank gaze, a strange creature was watching him with amusement. For the most part it looked like a lion, but it’s head was that of a woman.

A sphinx.

Riddles. Harry was not terribly fond of riddles.

“You are very near the goal. The quickest path is behind me.” She stopped to give him a intense look, pacing across the entrance. “You have one chance to answer my riddle. Do so correctly, I let you pass. Do so wrongly, I attack. Remain silent and you may walk away unharmed.”

Nodding in understanding, Harry asked politely, “May I hear the riddle?”

The sphinx stilled again, now in the dead center of the path. 

“ _First think of the person who lives in disguise,  
Who deals in secrets and tells naught but lies,  
Next, tell me what’s always the last thing to mend,  
The middle of middle and the end of end?  
And finally give me the sound often heard  
During the search for a hard-to-find word.  
Now string them together, and answer me this,  
Which creature would you be unwilling to kiss?”_

Harry stared at the creature for a long moment, thinking it over. He bit his bottom lip to keep from blurting anything out before he was ready to answer. A person who lies, deals in secrets and wears disguises... Some sort of impostor? No, that didn’t fit. For one it was too long to start a word... A spy? Like Severus had been... Middle of middle, end of end... That was the sort of word play Blaise enjoyed. The letter d. Spy-d... Spyduh?

Oh!

“Spider.” He answered. “I would not want to kiss a spider.”

The sphinx gave him a proud, mysterious smile, and then got up, stretched like a house-cat, and moved out of his way.

Slipping past the creature, he smiled a gave a tiny wave. “Thank you.” She purred in agreement.

A quick ‘Point Me!’ told Harry he was heading directly towards the cup. He still didn’t seem Krum anywhere, and rather thought that someone under the Imperious curse would be unable to answer a riddle. Good news for Ravenclaw, if Pansy was to be believed.

Harry broke into a dead sprint, and as he turned a corner, he saw it.

The trophy was glittering on a stand just twenty meters ahead.

Panting heavily, Harry picked up his speed even more, some little part of him giving a howl of triumph. He was going to win!

Just as he was a few feet away, there was a mighty crash, and a huge spider was rolling towards him. 

Wait, rolling?

Upon further inspection, the creature was not moving of it’s own accord. Instead it was curled up being propelled. Instead of going for Harry, it hit one of the hedge walls and bounced off, falling very still.

It was dead.

The form of Krum emerged from where the spider had been. His pace was calm and controlled, and his grip on his wand loose in his hand. Those blank eyes focused on Harry...

Pure fright jolted through Harry, and he stumbled back a step. His foot hit a root, and he stumbled backward, reaching behind him blindly to balance himself.

Harry’s hand wrapped around the handle of the trophy. With a tug at his navel, the world around him vanished in a blur of colour sound.

When the world became solid again, Harry was no longer in the maze. In fact, he was fairly certain he wasn’t at Hogwarts at all.

Harry looked around the foggy, dark graveyard with a growing sense of dread. He looked around for the cup but couldn’t spot it. He licked his lips and made his way towards a large monument. He chewed on his lip as he walked towards the monument before freezing and turning, his wand raised. He took a reflexive step back when a hooded figure carrying a strange bundle walked out into the graves. He watched as the man withdrew his wand and before Harry could think of defending himself his wand was out of his hand. 

Harry watched as the robed, hooded man lowered his bundle carefully to the ground and advanced on him with considerable speed despite his squat size. He struggled and tried to lash out but was slammed against the stone he had been inching towards before. He gritted his teeth as the rough stone ground against his skin and opened his eyes to look at the inscription as he wiggled. 

**TOM RIDDLE**.

The name only served to make Harry struggle harder and lash out with his legs despite the fact his arms were bound. He heard a grunt and he was backhanded. He kicked again and watched as a hand jutted out from under the cloak to bind his legs. A hand with a missing finger. He spat. 

“You!”

Wormtail didn’t reply, instead poked at the magical bindings before producing a length of battered cloth. Harry immediately clenched his teeth and lips together. A wordless prod from a jagged wand made his neck jerk and a strong hand gripped tight to his hair and yanked. The length was bound behind his head and stuffed in his mouth gagging his words. He glowered at the man who betrayed his parents with all the fierceness he could muster and growled low in his throat. 

Wormtail scurried off and Harry craned his neck to the point of pain to see where he disappeared to. Instead his eyes were drawn to the strange bundled thing just beyond where his wand lay. It was sputtering and stirring obscenely and it came across as disgusting to Harry. His head throbbed and he wasn’t sure if it was from lack of blood, fear or something far worse. 

A low, almost strangely feminine sounding hiss sounded somewhere below him where he could not see. He tried to pull himself away from the stone to look. He watched as a snake that at one time, if he had been foolish enough to mistake it for any other snake besides the one he knew it belonged to, he might have called it beautiful. She - and Harry somehow knew it was a she - coiled around the stone beneath his feet. 

Suddenly he heard a noise from behind him. A struggling noise and he watched as the snake coiled away into the darkness. Across from him the putrid bundle he was now convinced was not a baby struggled faster. He heard puffed out breaths and saw a great stone cauldron being pushed by the lump that was Wormtail. He fiddled with it when he finally settled it near Harry’s feet. He poked below it with his wand. Flames shot out, bright and hot, and smoke started to curl into the air. Almost immediately the water rolled into a bubble. 

“Hurry!”

Harry’s head jerked to the side almost of it’s own accord at the noise. His head gave a sharp, strong throb and he gnashed his teeth against the gag in his mouth. The water in the cauldron seemed to writhe with life and was shooting out sparks. 

“It is ready, Master.”

Wormtail advanced on the bundle and Harry desperately tried to pull himself from the stone. He could see his wand lying on the ground. He pinched his eyes closed a moment and futilely tried to accio it. He would try anything at the point he had reached. He heard a noise and stupidly opened his eyes. 

Pain. It was stronger than anything he had ever felt before. Stronger than when Dudley had broken his arm. Stronger than being beaten. Stronger than the face at the back of Quirrell’s head had ever made him feel. Wormtail was lifting a disgusting, grotesque thing from the ground. It was the size of a baby, but it had feeble arms and legs. Curled up and atrophied. It’s head was too large and the face was almost inhuman with a slitted noise and mouth and deep firey eyes. Harry didn’t know if the shape of it or the colour was worse. It was a raw, chafing reddish-black. Like an old, festering sore. 

Harry watched with revulsion as Wormtail cradled it and it fitted it’s delicate, sinewy arms about his neck. Wormtail carried it to the cauldron and as he grew closer Harry could see the look of horrified disgust on the other man’s face. He slid the thing into the cauldron which hissed and steamed.

Harry shook as he stared at the cauldron. Praying for the thing to boil and drown. He was in agonizing pain and hoped the impish homunculus was subjected to the same fate. 

Wormtail twitched in fear and drew his wand. His eyes were wrenched shut and his voice trembled with he spoke. “Bone of the father, unknowingly taken, you will renew your son.”

The earth at Harry’s feet cracked open and seemed to breathe out dust that fell into the cauldron. The cauldron flared up with sparks and turned an acrid, poisonous looking blue. Wormtail withdrew a sharp, gleaming silver knife. He was shaking so much it practically vibrated in his hand.

“Flesh of the servant w-w-willing given, you will revive your master.”

Harry was transfixed with horror. He wanted to look away but couldn’t. He watched as Wormtails sliced the silver knife through his wrist and the useless lump of his right hand - the one with the finger missing - landed in the rolling water with a loud splash. The brew turn a thick red. 

Wormtail advanced toward him and Harry jerked. “Blood of the enemy... forcibly taken... you will resurrect your foe.”

He felt the hot slash of the knife on his left arm above the crease of his elbow and draw down. Wormtail dropped the knife and pulled out a vial with his trembling, lone hand and collected the blood. He returned to the cauldron and poured the blood inside. The liquid turned bright white. 

Wormtail was now slumped uselessly on his side on the ground while the cauldron violently shot off brilliant, bright coloured sparks. It was wild for a long minute before everything went still and nothing happened. Harry took in a shaking, hopeful breath and waited. Stillness... Maybe it hadn’t worked? 

Vapour shot out in a thick, geyser-like stream and obscured Harry’s view. It tapered off slowly and Harry tried to see through the fog if anything had happened. Everything was still for a moment before slowly, very slowly, Harry saw the dark outline of a man draw himself up through the smoke. He was frighteningly thin and tall. 

“My robe.”

Wormtail scurried, half standing, half crawling towards the rob left of the ground. With his remaining hand, he draped the robe over the hairless, bone-white head and stepped back. The man-thing inside of the cauldron stepped out. Harry drew his gaze away, terrified, and watched as oddly bare, almost webbed feet stepped into the grass. He finally gained his barings and looked up again, looking up into the face that had long haunted his nightmares. A face of coal-red eyes and a slitted, not-there nose and thin, lizard-like mouth. 

The face of Voldemort.

The Dark Wizard however, seemed to not even notice Harry as he drew his eyes curiously down to his new hands. Thin, bony white fingers were on long hands. He rubbed them together before he stroked his fingers, almost caressing, down his chest. Then he touched his face. His skin was pulled tight to his skull, making him look almost gaunt. His eyes were slitted like a cat’s, and his expression was almost pleased. He drew his hands away from his face again and flexed them, his expression curious and rapt. He seemed in his own world, giving no notice to Harry, or to Wormtail, who was lying bleeding on the ground and making pitiful noises. He delved one of his skeletal like hands into his robe and drew out a wand. He stroked the length of it and then turned his attention to Wormtail. 

He gestured with his wand and Wormtail was drawn up from the ground and flung carelessly against the stone monument. Wormtail fell heavily against the ground, sobbing and pleading and Voldemort made a noise of annoyance. 

“My Lord... My Lord.... You promised... please...”

“Your arm, Wormtail.” Voldemort’s voice sounded bored, almost lazy. 

“Oh! Thank you... Thank you, my Lord.” Wormtail extended the disgusting, bloody stump of his former arm and trembled. 

“Your _other_ arm.”

Wormtail whimpered and looked pleading but rose his left arm to Voldemort. Voldemort pushed up the sleeve of Wormtail’s robe to the elbow and Harry saw something on his arm. Something like a brand, it was viciously red and of a skull with a snake leaving it’s mouth. He remembered the mark from the World Cup. The Dark Mark. 

“It is back... No doubt they have all noticed it... But we shall see... We shall see...” Voldemort rose his hand and extended out a long, white finger and pressed it to the Mark.

Pain exploded behind Harry’s eyes and Wormtail howled. When the pain finally subsided Harry noticed the Mark had changed from red to black. 

Voldemort looked pleased and threw back his shoulder in a confident posture and looked about the graveyard. “How many of the brave shall return? And how many of the foolish will stay away?”

He paced about the grounds, looking about to the sky and to the graves before his eyes finally swept back to Harry. 

“You stand upon the grave of my father, Harry Potter. Oh my fool Muggle father... Still he had his uses like your filthy Muggle-born mother... Yes it seems their uses lie only in death.” Voldemort laughed, it was high and cold. He then began pacing again. Before he stopped and pivoted and gestured widely with his arm and pointed towards the house on the hill overlooking the graveyard. “You see that house, Harry Potter? That was my father’s house. My mother lived in this quaint little village and fell in love with him like a fool. He abandoned her when she told him what she was and died giving birth to me, leaving me at a Muggle orphanage to be raised! I vowed to find him, however, that man... Tom Riddle... Who left his filthy name to me.” Voldemort paused, and then laughed, it was softer this time. “Listen to me, how sentimental I am...” He sighed and turned to look out at the graveyard. “But look... My true family returns....”

A sudden rushing noise filled the air. Harry’s eyes darted about as figures in hooded robes and masks appeared. Death Eaters. Harry swallowed and sucked in a breath. He hoped one of them wasn’t Lucius. Or worse.... Severus...

One of the shrouded figures fell on their knees and crawled forward, practically awash in awe and kissed the hem of Voldemort’s robes. Slowly the rest followed suit and Harry was both disgusted and filled with an extremely strong urge to roll his eyes despite being in very likely mortal peril. They had formed a circle now, encompassing Voldemort and the stone Harry was bound to. 

“My, my... Thirteen years it’s been... thirteen years... And you still come so quickly, as if it were yesterday...” He eyed them all, turning slowly. “And yet... I smell guilt... I question... here you all are... Healthy, with your magic in tact... Yet why did none of you come to the aid of their master - the one to whom they swore and eternity of loyalty!?” He waited a long moment before continuing. “So I think.. You all must have thought me broken. Thought me gone. Thought it safe to slip back into the world, plead innocent or ignorant.”

He paced a long moment and slumped in a ball on the ground Wormtail moaned. No one reacted. 

“But how could you never believe I would return? How could you doubt me and my power? That perhaps you would switch allegiances, or think there would be someone greater than Lord Voldemort.”

He was silent again. Some were shaking their heads. 

“I must admit... I am... _disappointed_...”

He looked now to Wormtail, who was still writhing on the ground. He sneered at the display. 

“Wormtail has repaid some of his debt to me. But it was out of fear! Yet still... he helped me regain my body when no other would... And Lord Voldemort is not unkind to those who deserve it...” 

A shining streak of something affixed itself to Wormtail’s hand and after a moment his shivering and moaning stopped. He rose his arm and a shining silver hand was now at the end of his arm. He looked at it. Flexed it. And then promptly prostrated himself in front of Voldemort and kissed his robes. Scurrying quickly, Wormtail took his spot in the circle. 

Voldemort walked the length of the circle, surveying the masked faces of his followers before returning to his previous spot. “Where is Lucius?” It was only then that Harry noticed certain gaps in the circle. Holes where people or groups of people should fill. “Lucius should be here!” Voldemort gestured almost frantically at a spot. “I know the LeStranges...” He waved his hand at a spot next to where Lucius would have stood. “...I know they are in Azkaban...” He paced a moment. “They will be rewarded... Yes... Rewarded...” 

Harry thought Voldemort looked utterly distraught for a long moment. He paced, anxious and agitated. His movement’s short and quick as he looked over the masks again. 

“Where is Lucius?”

“Gone, M’Lord.” A voice finally intoned. 

Voldemort strode up tp the speaker. “Gone, you say, Yaxley...”

“Defected!” Came another voice, a little down from Yaxley’s left. Close to the unoccupied spot. 

“Silence, Nott! No one asked you to speak!” Voldemort’s voice was a snarl before he turned to look back at Yaxley. “Is this true, Yaxley? Has Lucius truly deserted us?”

Yaxley bowed. “I speak the truth, My Lord, and would say the same over if you wrenched it painfully from my lips.” Yaxley was silent for a long moment. “For a while I was sure they were still allied with you. I would have sworn it up until the end of last year... I even went to their parties, nothing had changed. Rumors were they were training the boy... Molding him into a Dark Wizard...”

Voldemort looked for a long moment, very confused. He gestured for Yaxley to continue and Yaxley bowed again. 

“The Potter boy, M’Lord. He and Draco Malfoy are...” He paused for a long moment, his smirk was almost evident in his tone. “ _Intimate_.”

Harry seethed and his bound hands tried to clench into fists as he heard the Death Eaters jeer and hiss. Voldemort held a hand up for silence and it fell swiftly over the group. He turned and his eyes fixed on Harry, he approached slowly, as if savouring it. 

“Ah yes, Harry, I had forgotten you were even here!” He laughed a few of the Death Eaters laughed as well. “I must thank you Harry... If it weren’t for you coming here tonight, I would not stand before you.” Voldemort circled the grave and Harry, watching him the entire time. “You see when I killed your mother and she sacrificed herself to save you she left those traces on you... It was Old Magic, something, no doubt, I should have foreseen... And as we know Harry, from that night three years ago, I could not touch you...” He grinned a strange, thin-mouthed, lipless grin. “No matter, no matter... I can touch you now.”

He stopped before Harry, reaching up. His hand stopped just barely before Harry’s forehead before his index finger pushed forward and touched, just on the spot of Harry’s scar. It hurt. It hurt more than the pain from earlier. Harry thought he was being turned inside out. He screamed and writhed on the stone before the finger was gone and with it the pain. 

Harry shuddered with the pain and drew in a breath. Voldemort’s eyes raked over his face. 

“Yes... I lived in animals, from moment to moment until just shy of five years ago a Wizard came into where I was hiding and I took my chance. His will was very easy to bend and I was led right to the very school I had hoped to be in. I eventually took possession of his mind and attempted to take the Philosopher’s Stone but alas I was thwarted by a very young Mr. Potter...” He eyed Harry and then looked back to his followers. “The servant died as I vacated his body and once again I searched for another. I hoped for one of my followers to find me. But I was left, it seems, to my darkest hour... And then, last spring! Hope arrived!” He whirled to look about the circle again. 

“Wormtail fleeing from his former friends followed the snatches of hope and rumor to find me. Along the way he found Bertha Jorkins, and with a bit of cunning magic I never would have thought possible, managed to get her into my grasp. She told us of the Triwizard Tournament, and I learned of a Death Eater who could aid me. Her body broken from my use, I disposed for her. With Nagini’s aid...” He looked to the circling snake. “I managed to fit myself with a feeble, but passable body, and we stole away so I could recover and we could await the time when everything we planned came together. Tonight, Harry Potter, thinking himself victorious snatched up the Triwizard Cup and landed himself here. Giving my the last piece I needed to mold my new body - the blood of my enemy.”

Voldemort turned on Harry and made several quick slashing motions with his wand. The bindings snapped and Harry fell hard to the ground. He sucked in air, coughing as the gag fell away. Voldemort advanced towards him. 

“A fool I was to think this twig of a boy could defeat me. It was chance... mere change... Tonight I will give him one finally attempt to save his poor life before I do away with his tiresome antics....” Voldemort paused and stroked a finger down the side of his wand. “Crucio!”

Harry let out a scream. His body felt like it was being pulled in a million directions at once. He was sure his scar had broken open. His eyes wrenched closed. He tried to breathe.

He wanted to die...

The pain...

It felt like stars were exploding in his head. 

Then it was over. 

Harry lay on the ground listening to the laughter of the Death Eaters. His body twitched of it’s own accord. Fighting off the assault that had stopped. 

“Give him his wand, Wormtail.”

He wand was thrust into his hand roughly and using the gravestone as leverage, Harry pulled himself up on uneasy legs. He leaned against it for strength and panted hard. He was terrified, but he refused to let it show and so he stared hard right into the face of his enemy. Voldemort made a noise and took a step forward. He chuckled, a strange, twisted sound, and motioned at Harry with is wandless hand. 

“A Slytherin.” Voldemort laughed. “How utterly perfect! The Boy-Who-Lives is a Slytherin!” 

A nervous jittery laughter broke out amongst the Death Eaters. Harry clenched his teeth and gripped his wand tighter. 

“How very much alike we are, Harry...”

“I’m nothing like you!”

Voldemort’s strange, slitted nostrils flared and he bared his teeth. “You know how to duel, I presume...” He did not wait for Harry to answer. “First we bow to each other.”

Harry watched in morbid fascination as Voldemort bowed. He didn’t, however, he was not going to give the other the satisfaction.

“You must bow, Harry Potter. Dumbledore would be disappointed with your impertinece. I said _bow_!”

An invisible hand grabbed hold of his spine and bowed his body forward before releasing. 

“And now...”

Before Harry could even think of firing off a jinx he was hit full force with the Cruciatus Curse and his body crumpled uselessly to the ground. He howled out in pain, jerking about on the ground and tried to detach himself from the sensation. He tried to think of Draco but white hot knives driving into his skull forced the thought out. 

Then mercy.

Harry staggered up on his feet. His nerves were alight with fire but he was still in once piece. He took in a breath through his nose and parried. “Stupefy!”

The spell was blocked but Voldemort managed to look impressed. “Capable of clear thought so soon... There may be hope for you yet...”

As Voldemort raised his wand Harry leaped behind the gravestone. It cracked under the jinx. He pressed his back against it and gulped in air. Another curse bounced off the gravestone and Harry peered around it before whipping to the side. A jet of green light hit a Death Eater whose lifeless body hit the ground. 

“We are not playing games, Harry. You do me a great dishonour by not facing me. Your mother faced me when she died!” Another curse hit the stone and sent a piece of rock flying into his knee. It was jagged and he ripped it out, ignoring the way it burned and bled. “Your father died like a man!” Again the headstone shattered and Harry slumped lower as his cover diminished. 

As insane as it was. Voldemort was right. He was acting like a coward. He was doing his parents a disservice. Blindly he cast around the stone. 

“Reducto!”

There was a large bang and a scream before a hard thud. He pulled himself up and hissed and limped on his newly injured leg. Voldemort was staring down at the body of a Death Eater who was twitching. Harry grimaced a little. His curse had hit the man in the leg above the knee while the rest of the limb was no where to be found. 

“McNair, get Crabbe out of here.” 

One Death Eater broke rank and took hold of the man on the ground before they Apparated out with a crack. Voldemort turned impressed eyes to Harry. 

“No doubt Vincent will not be pleased with the state of his father. Still... rather impressive for a fourth year...” 

Harry gripped hard to his wand. His hand was shaking and sweaty and he was beyond terrified. He was more than likely going to die. But he would go down fighting. 

Voldemort raised his wand.

“Avada Kedavra!”

“Expelliarmus!”

The green curse from Voldemort’s wand collided with the red stream from Harry’s in midair. Harry watched, astonished, as their connected spells changed into a brilliant, shining gold. He was holding fast to his wand. Unable to let go. An arcing web of golden light, almost like lightning shot out from the place where the two spells connected. It formed a webbed dome around them with the Death Eaters and the snake on the other side. 

“Do nothing!” Voldemort’s voice was screeching and Harry could tell he was as astonished as Harry was. “He is mine! Do nothing unless I command it!”

Harry could have sworn he heard Fawke’s trill. It was strange and impossible but it filled him with impossible hope. With the chance of actually making it. Of seeing Draco and Pansy and the Malfoys and Snape again. The feeling was so strong.... His wand jerked and shook harder and Harry brought up his other hand to secure his wrist. 

A scream sounded from around them, but it was faint, like an echo. Harry realized as more came, that they were coming from Voldemort’s wand. A man, smokey and thick, floated out of the wand. He was the old man from Harry’s nightmares. He smiled and tipped his cap to Harry.

“You fight him! You hear me?”

Unable to do anything else, Harry nodded fervently. A woman burst out. Harry recognized her from the pictures in the _Daily Prophet_ as Bertha Jorkins. 

“You’re almost there, Harry! Just hold on a moment longer!”

His wand was shaking so violently now, Harry felt it travel up his arms to his spine. He watched as another figure came from the wand and picked itself up from the ground. He gaped at his father, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. 

“Your mother’s coming too, don’t worry. It’s going to be alright...”

There she was. Harry watched as she smiled the sunniest, brightest smile at him and moved forward. Her face was beautiful as she knelt just slightly to look at him, her eyes searching his. Her voice, though echoing, was quiet as though this was private. 

“When the connection is broken we will only last moments. It’s crucial you get to the Cup and back to safety in that time. Do you understand me?”

Harry nodded his head and tried for words but they didn’t come, so instead he smiled. He felt a strange weight as she pressed her hand to the top of his head. “You’ve done so well... Just a moment now...” She straightened again and returned to her husband. 

James smiled a bit. “S’not so bad, Slytherin. And tell... Tell Snape thank you.”

Lily’s spine went rigid. “Now, Harry! Now!”

Harry’s arms felt like lead but he wrenched his arms up and with a great tug on his wand, snapped the connection. The golden light vanished and Harry watched as the spectral shapes of the victims launched themselves at Voldemort. Harry ran. 

“Stun him!” Voldemort’s overwhelmed voice bellowed.

Harry dove over a headstone. “Protego!” He shot up and ran. He heard the sizzles of curses bouncing off the shield over him. He stumbled when one caught his leg and hit the ground hard. His legs were bound and he saw the faint glow of the portkey. He cast another reducto at the ground near his feet. The dirt exploded upward like a shield and he jabbed out his wand. “ACCIO!”

He stretched his free hand out and caught hold of the arm of the cup and felt the familiar jerk of a hook behind his navel and the world went inside out and colours blurred all around him. 

His back slammed hard into the ground and he let out a gasp of shock as air fled his lungs before he closed his eyes and limply let go of the cup. 

Safe.


	16. The End of the Beginning

The familiar sights and sounds of Hogwarts made Harry relax for about half a second before the reality of what he had seen crashed into him. A low groan came from somewhere deep in his chest and he clenched his hands into the dirt beneath him.

Chaos and cheers broke out upon seeing Harry, but when he didn’t react to their adulation, it slowly tampered off. He heard a few worried calls of his name, especially from Snape, but they sounded very far away. All Harry could focus on was his own haggard breathing and that _he was back! he was back! he was back!_ -

Suddenly, someone was moving Harry, and he tried to fight of the hands on his shoulders. They held tight and fingers gently cupped his head and raised it.

Draco’s worried grey eyes were only a couple of inches away from his face. “Harry?” His name sounded muffled, but the more Harry focused on it the easier it became to understand.

“He’s back.” He told Draco, reaching up with one hand to clutch at Draco’s shoulder. “He’s back!”

Shushing sounds came from the blonde, and the hand that had been holding his head up moved to card through his hair. “Okay, okay. He’s back. We know.”

Shaking his head furiously, Harry tried to talk but only ended up choking on a sob. He didn’t understand! Not at all! The hand in his hair was soothing, and slowly it helped ground Harry a bit. “Okay, Harry. Remember that exercise I taught you a long time ago? Where you focus on one memory?” The image of the Slytherin Common Room sprang to mind, and Harry nodded. “Focus on that, Harry. You have to calm down.”

He nodded once, the movement almost too jerky to be recognizable, and closed his eyes, focusing on the details of his dorm. Bubbling panic made the rooms seem to warp and tilt like the floor was melting, but slowly Harry was able to tear his mind away from his emotions and calm down.

When he opened his eyes back up, a small crowd was forming around him. Just over Draco’s shoulder he could see Snape’s face, even paler than normal. Just beyond him was Dumbledore, whose expression was grave.

Locking his gaze on the Headmaster, Harry swallowed harshly and got out, “He’s back. Voldemort is back.”

Draco’s grip on him tightened almost to the point of pain, and several hisses rang out from the crowd. “He’s crazy!” He heard voices mutter. “You-Know-Who is back? But he’s dead!”

The Headmaster nodded once, eyes looking past Harry as his mind worked on this. He didn’t really look surprised, but Harry hadn’t expected him to. The man had known Voldemort wasn’t dead since at least his First Year. Probably sooner.

Another set of hands grabbed Harry from behind, and he was lifted up until he was standing on shaky feet. With a tilt of his head, Harry could see Moody’s grizzled face. The one still-human eye was alight with something that looked almost fanatical. “C’mon, Lad. Let’s get you out of here. Hospital Wing for you, I think.”

Before he could fully register what was going on or anyone could protest, Harry was being dragged away from the scene, away from everyone-

Behind him, Draco gave a noise of protest, but he heard Moody shush him. The din of the crowd was becoming more and more panicked as the news that You-Know-Who was back spread like wildfire, and soon Harry could hear nothing but his breathing and the sound of the wooden peg leg against the stone floors over the noise.

They were nearly back to the castle before Moody spoke. “What happened, Potter?”

Still panting slightly and feeling beyond overwhelmed, Harry gave a shrug. “Cup was a portkey... I was at a graveyard.... Voldemort was there.” He swallowed hard. “Voldemort’s back.”

They passed through the entrance hall and started up a flight of stairs. “The Dark Lord was there? You saw him?”

“Yeah... There was a potion... got a new body... Wormtail was there...”

“What happened then?”

Harry huffed out a shaky breath. “He called the Death Eaters... Made me fight him...”

Something incredulous entered Moody’s expression, but Harry didn’t have the energy to care. “Yeah. Then our wands did something funny... Mum and Dad were there and some weird silvery stuff...”

By then they had reached a door, and Moody ushered him through it and shoved a cup in his hand. “Drink this, it’ll help. Sit down, you’ll be alright.”

Blinking at the man, Harry murmured, “Hospital Wing?”

“You’ll not make it there like this. Drink up.”

A quick sniff told him there was a Calming Draught in the tea, along with some Pepper-Up and a hint of something herbal and vaguely familiar. The tea itself? He took a sip and felt smoke come of his ears. There was still something strange about taste of the tea...

Now Harry could see around him with more focus. Moody was utterly pale and sitting lightly. That strange light was still present in his gaze. “You’re sure he’s back? Positive? How did he do it?”

Harry shifted his gaze over to the window. He could still hear the muffled sounds of panic from outside. “Did some stuff with a grave... and one of his servants...” As his clarity of mind increased, so did his discomfort in the situation. “Sir, I’m really not feeling well. Can we go to the Hospital Wing?”

“What did he take from you?” Moody snapped, ignoring the question completely. Green eyes narrowed slightly. 

He hadn’t mentioned anything about that, had he? How did Moody know, then?

Keeping his eyes on the window, but making sure the professor was in the corner of his eye, Harry fiddled with his cup. “Blood. He took my blood.”

A satisfied little noise came from Moody, and Harry forced himself not to react, like he hadn’t heard it at all. 

This was wrong.

This was very wrong.

“What about the Death Eaters?” Moody asked, leaning forward. “Did they come? How did he treat them?”

Time to test the waters. “He was a bit miffed at first - went on about abandoning him or something like that - but all in all seemed pretty pleased to see them. Kept asking for Mr. Malfoy, actually.”

“What?” The man practically growled. “He was asking for Lucius?”

Well, that was a reaction. Shrugging nonchalantly, Harry still didn’t look at him. “Yeah, he did. Kept asking ‘are you sure he’s left us’ and stuff like that. Snapped at Nott’s dad when he spoke against him.”

Something bubbling and inhumane made it’s way out of Moody’s throat. “No, no! That’s wrong! After all I’ve done for him! I was supposed to be - Karkaroff fled! Snape and Lucius turned away, and the rest were cowards! It’s my turn! I put your filthy name in the Goblet! I took care of that meddlesome old man! I put the portkey on the cup! It was me.”

Wait, what?

“Sir?” Harry blinked at him, astonished. He’d been suspicious, yeah, but he hadn’t exactly expected the laundry list of crimes, must less _those_ crimes.

Moody let out that dangerous animistic noise again and whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry. “Did he think it was easy? I had to put up with you brats! The son of the traitor, and mudbloods, the blood traitors! I had to watch and deal with you all, everyday fighting the urge to just turn my hand and kill you all. It would have been so easy...

“And then I had to deal with the Longbottom boy, and then Diggory, all so you could advance! You had to win the tournament, do you see? Now the Dark Lord will win, and it’s because of me! Not Lucius! Not Wormtail! ME!”

He was panting now, eyes wide and a bit of foaming spit collecting at the corners of his mouth, like a mad dog. The tip of his wand was still pointed directly at Harry’s chest. “He tried to kill you, and you managed to get away again... What do you think my reward will be if I finish you for him? Do you imagine he’d forget the name Lucius Malfoy?”

Shoving his hand into his robes, Harry’s hand wrapped around he hand of his own wand just as the word ‘stupify!’ rang out. Moody dropped like a stone, and a glance at the door revealed Dumbledore and Snape side by side. It was the Potions Professor who had cast the spell, and Harry managed to send a smile his way before the expression crumpled under the force of the night’s experiences.

Dumbledore’s terrifying expression as he looked down at the unconscious Moody didn’t help.

While Harry watched, the two men rounded up Moody, making sure he was well secured. “Severus, fetch me the strongest truth serum you have, please. And then please go to the kitchens and get an elf named Winky.”

Nodding, Snape motioned to Harry. “If you would come along?”

“No.”

That came from Dumbeldore, who didn’t even look up.

Looking torn, Snape stared at him. “But, Albus... the boy...”

Shaking his head, Dumbledore finally glanced back. “He needs to understand.” He caught sight of Harry’s shocked expression and continued. “This is not Alaster Moody. The man I know would never have taken you away from my sight.” He nodded again to Snape, who cast a reluctant glance at Harry before disappearing out the door.

That took a minute to sink in, and then Harry frowned. “Then why was he able to?” Dumbledore blinked at him. “Why was he allowed to just lead me away like that?”

“I had no proof at the time.” The Headmaster explained, sounding reasonable.

Harry thought it explanation wasn’t reasonable at all. He had been bait. Bait for a psycho who had been his teacher for an entire year...

A few minutes later (or so Harry thought. It could have been far longer), Snape returned, a bottle of Veritaserum and Winky stumbling behind him. Dumbledore nodded at them and pulled a key from Not-Moody’s robes. He went to a trunk and undid the first lock, which have him a second key, which undid the second lock. The pattern continued until the final lock clicked up, and inside, at the bottom of something like a bit, was another Moody, this one without a peg-leg, missing tufts of hair, and unconscious.

Oh.

The missing ingredients.

That certainly explained some things.

Dumbledore murmured something, and then asked Harry to get Imposter-Moody’s cloak and toss it down to cover Real-Moody, whose lips were starting to turn blue. Harry obeyed in a sort of daze, gazing between the two in mixed fascination and horror.

As he watched, Snape grabbed the flask Moody habitually drank from and sniffed. His arched eyebrow proved that it was in fact Polyjuice. 

Then, slowly, Moody began to transform.

His skin bubbled and the fake items popped out of his head and leg respectively. The entire thing was nauseating to watch, but Dumbledore’s firm gaze made Harry reluctant to look away.

Finally, it finished, and a man with straw-blonde hair was slumped down where Moody had been. Something about him was very familiar.

He was manhandled until Snape dosed him with the truth serum, and then his eyes cracked up. Harry jumped, but there was no focus to the gaze. It was like what Harry imagined a sleepwalker would look like.

“Can you hear me?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes.”

And so the interrogation began. Harry found out that this man was Barty Crouch Jr. (ahhh, that’s where Harry had seen him. How long had Dumbledore known this man wasn’t his friend? Wouldn’t he have realized that long ago? And if he did, then why didn’t he stop him?), that he had killed his father, who had broken him out of Azkaban years prior, that he had cast the Dark Mark at the World Cup, that he had replaced Moody the entire year, and that he had been instrumental in raising Voldemort. All the while his former house-elf cried and sobbed and begged him to stop talking.

Harry wondered if she needed to understand too, of if Dumbledore had another reason for dragging that poor elf here.

“He is returned to power and I will be reward beyond my wildest dreams.” The man’s grin was beyond insane, and Harry flinched back from it.

He wanted out of this room.

Now.

Thankfully, Dumbledore seemed satisfied, and he scribbled down something on a piece of parchment from Fake-Moody’s desk. He asked the house-elf, voice gentle as though he had not just put her through more than any elf should be put through, if she could please deliver this to Madame Pomfrey? Winky nodded, hiccuped, and disappeared with a crack.

Turning to Snape, Dumbledore stood and nodded at him. “If you could please keep guard while I take Harry?”

“No, sir.” Snape replied.

Freezing, Dumbledore stared. “Severus?”

Snape reached over and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. The boy nearly collapsed into it, green eyes slipping shut. “If this absolutely cannot wait until Mr. Potter has recovered, then I ask that I be there as well.”

For a moment, Dumbledore frowned and looked like he was going to protest, but then Professor McGonagall burst in, looking for the most part rather collected, but the stray stands and heavy breaths gave her away. The Headmaster nodded to her, and after a quick sweep of the room she nodded back and swept back out, speaking to the Minister, whose voice was a mix between pompous as frantic as he demanded to talk to Dumbledore or Moody or whoever the hell else was responsible for this You-Know-Who nonsense.

She ushered them to a near-by room, and Dumbledore lead their little group down the hall and up the stairs too his office. He still didn’t look pleased, but the way Harry was half behind Snape and half leaning on him for support must have convinced the man not to send him away.

“How’s Cedric?” Harry finally mumbled. “Is he okay?”

There was an ominous silence, and then Dumbledore sighed. “Mr. Diggory will be, for the most part, fine. However, his leg was badly injured during the attack by the Imperio-ed Mr. Krum, and we’re unsure how much function of his leg he will regain. He’s with his parents now at St. Mungo’s.”

Harry let out a hiss and buried his face in Snape’s arm and let out a shaky breath. If he’d not ran like a coward...

There was suddenly warmth in Harry’s lap, and a soft trill made him turn to look down at Fawkes. The bird placed his head on the boy’s shoulder and settled down, giving off a few comforting notes. Carding his fingers through the feathers, Harry sighed and then looked back at the Headmaster.

Bright blue eyes met his gaze, and the Headmaster gave him a sad look. “If I thought that putting you in an enchanted sleep now would make this easier for you later, I would.” He told Harry seriously. 

It was clear he meant it. But Harry rather wished that choice was up to him, thanks.

And so Harry started to explain.

It took a long while, but Dumbledore never took his gaze from Harry the whole time. A few times, when Harry’s voice hitched, Snape’s hand would come down to rest on his shoulder, or quickly card through his hair.

In the end, that was probably the only thing that got Harry through it.

Finally, Harry got to the part where Wormtail took his blood, and he found his arm jerked up as Snape kneeled down to examine the wound. “He said my blood made him stronger. And when he touched me, it didn’t burn him. It was my scar...”

Something like triumph entered Dumbledore’s eyes, and Harry looked away. He didn’t understand how any of that could be a good thing.

It took a minute for Snape to be satisfied that Harry was not going to die of blood loss in the next minute. To be fair, the cut did look rather nasty, and the underarm of his shirt was probably dark with blood by now. Once his arm was returned, Harry continued.

When he talked about how his and Voldemort’s wands connected, Dumbledore quietly explained Priori Incantatem. Harry shifted and then ducked his head down. “These... spirits... came out. They were people he’d killed.” He paused, glancing back at Snape. “I saw my parents.” The hand on his shoulder went suddenly stiff. “My Dad said something about being okay with Slytherin. And...” He paused and turned to face Snape fully. “They said to thank you.”

Black eyes stared down at him. Snape said nothing, and just barely managed a slight nod. 

After that, Harry continued, explaining how the shades had helped him to escape, and how he’d managed to grab the portkey. Then his resolve fell apart, and Harry closed his eyes and went limp against the chair. It was just too much.

Very gently, Dumbledore thanked Harry for explaining, and the boy managed a nod in response. He felt the hand on his shoulder relax, and then it helped coax him up. Fawkes flew away, still trilling, and Harry didn’t open his eyes to see where the bird went.

It wasn’t a terribly long trek to the Hospital Wing after that, and Harry didn’t remember any of it. The next thing he knew, the doors were opening and he was ushered into a bed, where Madame Pomfrey rushed off to fetch a potion.

Harry cracked his eyes open, and saw Snape watching him, face pale. “Severus, that truth serum... was that the one we made?”

Something like a smile made one corner of Snape’s lips twitch. “Indeed it was.”

Nodding, Harry turned his gaze away. “Good.”

The hand carded through his hair one more time, and he heard Snape mumble “I'll see you tomorrow.” Harry nodded, the he heard the sound of the doors opening, and the then two sets of footsteps.

As Harry tried to process that, a head of blonde hair appeared in his field of vision. Draco stared down at him, eyes wide and worried and very silver.

Suddenly how tired he was or the what he’d seen didn’t matter as much as being with Draco. He reached up and pressed his palm against the Malfoy heir cheek, who leaned against it. “Harry...”

Later, neither would be sure of who moved first. But the next thing Harry was aware of was Draco’s lips on his, and thin hands on his cheek and in his hair.

It lasted nearly a minute before they pulled away. Harry didn’t lift his hands, however. The warmth Draco was giving off was more comforting that Fawkes and Snape combined.

“I did tell you our first snog would be after we won, didn’t I?” Draco laughed, but the sound was half sob. He went limp next to Harry. “You’re not allowed to pull that kind of shit again, do you hear me?”

Letting out a half-chuckle of his own, Harry turned his head to look at the form next to him. “Have you met me? Hi, Harry Potter.”

Draco let out a low groan.

Before either of them could continue, Madame Pomfrey bustled back in, carrying a vial of Dreamless Sleep. She poured off a dose for him and sent a curious glance at Draco, but seemed to decide ignoring him was the best option. Instead she shoved the dose into Harry’s hands, and he drank it before he even registered the motion.

The last thing Harry was aware of was the warmth of Draco by his side.

Harry thought that maybe he didn’t need the potion as long as he was there.

 

~*~

When Harry woke up the next morning it was to the quiet whispers of Narcissa Malfoy and to a loud, muffled argument. He slowly opened his eyes and then immediately closed them again, trying to block out the world and nuzzled against Draco’s shoulder. The Malfoy heir probably wasn’t comfortable on the edge of the bed, but he gave no signs of imminent distress. Harry tried to make his attempts at pulling Draco closer look sleepy and unconscious. 

“I know you’re awake, you prat.”

“Whose arguing?” Harry asked into Draco’s shoulder, smiling when one of Draco’s hands laid over the one he had curled around Draco’s waist.

“Dumbledore, Professor Snape, Father and the Minister. Fudge is refusing to listen to reason and even with all of the glaring evidence, thinks not only that Dumbledore is a barking liar, but you too.”

“Lovely.” Harry didn’t move for a long minute, he just lay and listened to the faint arguing. “Why is Fudge here anyway?”

“To bring a dementor to kiss Crouch.” Narcissa’s voice was soft, and welcome and Harry lifted his head finally to look at her. She smiled, but it was thin, and leaned over in her chair to brush his hair from his eyes. “You should go back to sleep, Harry.”

Harry shook his head weakly. There was too much happening. “Are you alright?” He finally burst. “What about Mr. Malfoy?” He felt like he needed to tell Narcissa and Lucius everything about what happened at the graveyard. To warn them. “He’s --”

“Fine. My dear Harry.” Narcissa pulled her chair forward and took hold of the hand that wasn’t trapped under Draco and held and squeezed. “Everything is just fine.”

“But---”

“Hush.” Narcissa’s voice, which was still soft, was also firm. “You needn’t worry your head. All things will be taken care of.” 

Harry gave a bleary nod and sat up slowly, shaking out his arm that had been trapped under Draco for who knew how long. He put on his glasses and slowly the room came into focus. One of the first things Harry noticed was an occupied bed across from him. A woman he didn’t recognize was reading quietly in her chair, while the familiar form of Cedric Diggory slept. 

Cedric looked pretty all together considering everything he had been through. And if you ignored the mess of his left leg. It looked strangely Muggle to have his leg splinted, bandaged and propped up on pillows, but Harry reckoned that Dark magic healed slowly, if at all. He noticed Draco shift and sit up alongside him and turned to look at the blonde, who was also looking at Cedric. 

“Apparently he was under the Cruciatus for about five minutes. I can’t...” Draco lowered his eyes slowly and shook his head. “Stupidly brave Hufflepuff.”

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco and felt the boy lean into him. Slowly Harry stood, suddenly very aware he was still in the bloody, battered clothes he had fallen asleep in and cringed. He needed to shower and change. And brush his teeth. And eat something. But the arguing was still happening outside the door and he frowned. He definitely didn’t fancy walking through _that_.

Narcissa eyed him for a long moment. “Why don’t you go to the bathroom, Harry, while I see what Madame Pomfrey has lying around?”

Harry nodded slowly and padded across the room to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection and then looked away. He was grimy, bloodied and dirtied. His uniform was tattered and he looked like a haunted mess. He pulled off his shirt and found a small cloth and some soap under the sink and set about at least removing the grit from his face and arms. He rinsed his mouth out with water and combed his damp fingers through his hair. 

At a soft knock on the door he opened it partway and took the bundle in Narcissa’s arms. It was a pair of pajamas and he slid them on. The smelled sterile and clean. And he found a toothbrush with a dollop of paste on it and gratefully cleaned out his mouth. It was amazing how the simplest things made him feel better. 

When he left the bathroom he does his clothes in the rubbish bin and quietly spelled a small crack in his glasses away. Then he returned to the bed. Sitting down beside Draco he almost instantly fell against the blonde and let him hold him until he felt ready enough to leave the room and face the world. 

~*~

Harry sat on the steps of the Grand Staircase watching people filter into the End of Term Feast. He wasn’t feeling particularly hungry or social. He would have much rather been left alone. He turned when he heard someone stop behind him on the steps and smiled faintly at Pansy. She sat down beside him wordlessly and they watched people file in. 

“Durmstrang and Beauxbatons left after breakfast this morning.”

Harry nodded at the news. Neither of them had won, and considering the commotion he didn’t blame them for leaving early. He knew Draco and his parents were already inside, but for some reason even that didn’t make him want to stand. 

“Mum! _Dad_! I need to do this on my own!” 

“You really should reconsider, Ced. There are quite a lot of stairs... I wish you would have stayed at St. Mungos.”

“It’s just a bad leg!” 

Harry stood up slowly and turned in place as Pansy did the same. Cedric was leaning against the railing, quite out of breath and looking rather rumpled. The woman Harry had seen in the Hospital earlier was just behind him, and his father was lightly holding his right shoulder. Cedric was wearing his uniform trousers, shirt and tie, but had forgone the vest and robes. Harry couldn’t blame him. With a device almost as familiar as a knee brace, and wielding forearm crutches, the robe would have been hindrance. 

“Took you long enough,” Harry teased lightly. Seeing Cedric moving about gave him the faintest feeling of hope. A reminder that at least they had all made it through. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Sorry to disappoint. This one here,” Cedric indicated his mother with a jerk of his head, “Thinks I’m enfeebled.”

“I think you’re just looking for attention.”

Cedric’s mother looked outraged for a minute before Cedric let out a breathless laugh and shook his head. 

“S’right, Potter, I’m here to steal your thunder.”

Harry grinned faintly as Cedric slowly made his way down the last set of steps. It took him a while, bearing his weight on his right leg and relying on the crutches, but eventually he made it off the last step. Closer he looked tired and weary, but pleased with himself despite all the effort. 

“Shall we?”

Harry let the Diggory’s in front of he and Pansy and the family entered the Great Hall. Almost at once the chattering and clanging about stopped and silence fell as everyone realized Cedric was back. That he was whole and moving. Harry slid in next to Amos Diggory with Pansy alongside him and watched as Hufflepuff table burst into applause and cheers. People were tossing up their hats or setting off confetti with their wands. Harry looked across the Hall and saw Blaise, Millicent and Draco standing and applauding and he grinned as he and Pansy joined in before the rest of the Hall caught on and soon everyone was cheering as Cedric made his way to his table and sat down. 

Harry and Pansy quickly joined Slytherin table and Harry took a seat when everyone else did and looked to Draco. 

“Not mad?”

Draco paused a moment before shaking his head. “No. Not mad at all.”

The Hall slowly quieted as Dumbledore took his place at his podium and everyone slowly looked at him. Dumbledore nodded to them all and let his eyes linger on Hufflepuff for a long moment before observing the whole Hall. “A round of applause worthy of our Champions who have indeed suffered in the name of competition and victory. The Triwizard Cup has gone to Mr. Potter --” He was cut off for a moment by loud stomping and banging from the Slytherin table. “Who wins the trophy as well as the monetary reward of one thousand galleons. However, in light of all that has happened, Mr. Diggory has also won an award. He will be given an honorary plaque and a gift of five hundred galleons.”

Hufflepuff broke out into whoops and cheers and Harry grinned widely, glad that Cedric earned something for all of his pain. He looked over to see people patting the Sixth Year on the back and shaking his hand. 

“However, there are more serious matters which I would like to discuss.” The Hall tapered back into silence. “This Ministry of Magic would not wish for me to tell you this. They would say you are too young, too impressionable, too innocent. I however, know you are smart, and strong willed and while innocent, able to face the truth. Last night, when Mr. Potter took hold of the Cup he was portkeyed to a graveyard where he was forced to witness the return of Lord Voldemort!”

Murmurs went through the Hall and people began looking about. Whispered conversations broke out. Harry stared hard at his plate and swallowed, trying to push down the sick feeling in his stomach. He felt Draco’s hand lightly take his and he leaned against his boyfriend for support. 

“The Minister of Magic will no doubt say this is a lie. I assure you, however, that this is true. I plead with you to not panic and to think on my words. I know some of you will find it hard to believe. I know some of you will pretend differently and I will tell you now, that I understand, and will not think different of you. However, I urge you all to take heed and pay attention and to remember that help at Hogwarts is always here for those who need it and ask for it, and that light is always there, even in the darkest of times.”

Slowly the tables filled with food and Dumbledore’s speech was washed away in conversation and eating. Harry, however, lingered on his words and only after a few strong jabs to the ribs by Draco, began to eat. 

~*~

Harry was quiet for most of the trip home. He spent part of it in the Gryffindor carriage, talking with Ron, Hermione and Neville. After a while, on his way back, Harry spotted the twins talking on their own and made his way over to them. 

“Hullo.”

“Hey, Harry.”

“Ron says you two are making more of those joke items.”

“Yeah.” Fred grinned at him. “We’re hoping to get to Gringotts this summer to talk about a business loan.”

“Oh yeah?”

The twins nodded and Harry pondered on it. “Y’know, I don’t really... want my reward money... I feel bad having it, considering...” He saw them look between each other. “Don’t s’pose you two would be willing to take it off my hands.”

George looked incredulous. “Are... but...”

Harry shrugged. “Better than putting it in a nameless charity that’ll never help anyway. Besides, I like your stuff. You guys really know what you’re doing when you apply yourselves. “

“Well...” Fred mused. “We’ll pay you back!”

Harry shook his head. “No need. Just make me silent partner, or whatever it’s called. Deal?” 

The twins nodded and spoke together. “Deal.”

The three of them shook on it and Harry walked back to Slytherin feeling lighter. He saw Draco reading a letter when he sat down and the blonde looked up at him and smiled faintly. 

“Whose it from?”

“Mum. She says when you join us next week we’ll be leaving the Manor for a new place. She won’t say where, only that it’s safe.”

Harry nodded grimly. He was glad the Malfoys were taking precaution. He was quiet for a moment before shifting to lean against Draco, who reflexively wrapped an arm around his waist. They sat there quietly, holding each other the rest of the ride back to London.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late posting - technical difficulties here. Also, remember that there will be a one week break before posting this chapter and Book Five. See you in March!


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